Consort
by Kitt SummerIsle
Summary: The ruler of Kaon takes a consort. A Greekverse tale.
1. Celebration

**Title**: Consort

**Rating**: T

**Verse**: Greekverse (Greekverse is a kind of a Cybertron verse, where the Great War never happened, there are not Autobots or Decepticons, because all cities are independent city-states with royalty or similar leadership, who compete with every other city-state diplomatically and sometimes aggressively. The characters are more or less a mixture of G1 verse with a touch of TF:A. Optimus is not a Prime here, he is smaller and younger and called Optronix. Link to greekverse on deviantart is in my profile, because I can't do it here)

**Genre**: drama

**Characters**: Optronix, Megatron

**Warnings**: none yet

**Summary**: Megatron takes a consort.

**Note**: klik – Cybertronian second, breem - Cybertronian minute, joor – Cybertronian hour, orn/cycle – Cybertronian day, groon – Cybertronian month, vorn – Cybertronian year

* * *

**Celebration**

The bonding ceremony was an extremely awkward affair with most mechs thinking violent thoughts about the other half of the attendance, including the bondeds-to-be, the attendant sires and carriers. That it was often times similar in arranged bondings didn't make Optronix any happier, as this time it was his spark in the line of fire. So to speak. It was an even stranger and frightening affair than his great-uncle's similar ceremony a century ago that he had been lucky not to attend on account of being too young for it. That one had ended in an energon-bath, decimating both families. He hoped that this time they could somehow avoid that outcome.

Glancing to his right and up, way up to his soon-to-be-bonded he wasn't sure. Megatron's face was stormy with a snarl that seemed to be carved into his faceplates, his servos tightened into fists every now and then and his red optics shot absolutely killing glowers towards Optronix's Sire. Ultra Magnus wore a distinctly smug expression and Optronix wondered if his Sire didn't perceive the danger that he was in – or dismissed it as unimportant. He continued to empty high-grade cubes and congratulate on the nearby mechs on the fine drinks, the treats and everything he could think of. That nobody deigned to give him answers apparently left him uninterested.

He could blackmail Kaon into accepting the bonding, because Megatron couldn't afford Iacon to stab him in the back while he was hip-deep in the Tarn campaign, but he wouldn't live long right here if Megatron decided that the insult was greater than the advantages. Optronix saw it clearly and he was no politician, so why not his Sire? Was there something still that he kept as a hidden trump card, that gave him safety, even as Megatron looked like wanting to deactivate him right there or was it just simple obtuseness?

Optronix tried another energon treat from the platter, but it was the same as the other dozens he tried before; rich in Cybertronium, Kaon's main produce, the source of its wealth, it must have been very healthy, but it didn't improve the taste one single bit. He definitely missed the quite useless but sweet to taste Aluminum-based jellies from home. At least the energon was good, he mused, watching his Sire throwing back another cube of the fabled Blackfire brand, famous for knocking out bigger mechs than his Sire after a few cubes.

Well, he wouldn't have to perform at the end, Optronix supposed, internally trembling at the thought. So far the young mech drank only a small cube of the stuff, and while it tasted like manna, it did have a nasty kick afterwards. Considering the occasion, he didn't mind it, he thought, washing down the taste of the treat with another cube. He was an adult mech now, at his bonding at that and no caretaker could scold him for drinking it.

The rest of the ceremony with the speeches and recitals dragged away slower than a lecture from Prowl about decorum in the palace. What Optronix would've given to hear his lessons again, a thousand times, instead of this! But there was no going back for him, not ever. In a joor or so he'd be legally bound to Megatron and in an orn or so… he tried not to think about it, not to cast another nervous glance on the warlord's huge, silver-burgundy frame. His bonded-to-be was at least twice his size, hating him for the position that his Sire put them and considering him a weak, simpering Iaconian not even good for bearing his heirs. Not very good portents for one's bonding night.

They were trying to keep him in the dark so far, both his Sire so he wouldn't protest to the almost-forced bonding and Megatron as well, not considering him an equal, a worthy mate for him by Kaonite standards. Unfortunately Optronix paid attention and heard much that they agreed on. He wouldn't be Megatron's mate, not truly, not even Ultra Magnus's blackmail could make him agree to that. A consort, a chattel only, a mech to warm his berth until he could bear sparklings for him, but never to be cherished or loved.

But he couldn't refuse. His Sire made sure that he knew the alternative should he protest against this bond. Optronix shuddered. It was no choice really. Bond to Megatron and be his consort and at least be free of his Sire's strict yoke - or be given to his worst suitor, the mech who harassed him for vorns and was besides Ultra's right-hand mech, Blitzwing. He'd rather choose Megatron thank you. At least with the warlord his fate was not certain to be dark and bleak. Only likely.

They stood up to say their vows and Optronix was embarrassed by having to stand on his chair to be anything close to Megatron's level and saw the sneering Kaonite faceplates around because of it. Truly, he was like a youngling beside the massive mech – which he actually was, hardly even legit for bonding, while Megatron looked like, felt like and probably was a thousand vorns old, surpassing him in experiences as well as… well, everything really.

It didn't help that he found himself attracted to the huge, silvery mech, on a level he couldn't express. He was frightening and crude, unlike any ruler Optronix met so far, a warrior rather than a statesmech. Still, he looked capable and his people were obviously ferociously loyal to him to the point where his Sire couldn't get a single spy into his court. He also exuded power, self-belief and a raw, almost brutal sensuality that had Optronix stare and gulp uneasily the first time they met.

They met first in his Sire's court, the first time when Megatron tried to entice Iacon into his planned campaign to conquer the nearby city-states. Optronix was still a youngster back then, only allowed into the throne-room to learn from the proceedings, as even his Sire admitted his natural affinity to leadership and politics. Even though he wasn't going to be Iacon's ruler ever, as he had elder siblings, they thought that he might be able to utilize that gained knowledge and insight later.

Or so he thought. Too late for that now. He'd never be anything but a chattel in the warlord's berth, maybe even in his harem if he wanted one later. Kaonites despised Iaconians for their smaller statue, their reluctance to learn the warrior arts and their inclination towards peace and prosperity. No matter that he was big for an Iaconian, he'd always be tiny in the Kaon court. No matter that he'd trained in several martial arts, he'd be a child's play to beat by the smallest Kaonite.

Optronix sighed. If only he could prove his worth somehow… but Megatron didn't look like wanting to give him chances and frankly neither did the other members of the court. Shockwave measured him up with a cold, calculating glance that made him want to run away and hide in the nearest hole. Dreadnought looked at him like one who sees a cyberfly on his oil-cake and itches to casually flatten it. The rest all wore expressions that varied just little on that theme really.

Megatron growled his vow almost, holding Optronix's servo in his bigger one, almost crushing it in tandem with his snarl at the end. He could barely hold back a pained grimace before he too swore to be a faithful mate for him and all the empty promises that were agreed on in his name. Could he mean it when he had no say in what to tell? He had to. Breaking the vow in any way would mean his instant execution and Megatron was perfectly capable of levelling Iacon if he felt insulted, Primus forbid cheated.

Looking at the mech again, Optronix decided to make an effort. It was his fate now and he must make the best of it. Megatron might hate his Sire for this farce but he too would be bound to Optronix and they might be able to learn to live with each other. In a few joors they'd see each other's spark, all their memories, dreams and intentions. Love was maybe too much to hope for, but they didn't have to be enemies. Optronix snatched one more cube of high-grade from the table before they were led out to the designated quarters. He needed some strengthening before… before he got in that berth with Megatron.

No matter his determination to make it work that part still caused nervous fluttering in his tank, like he was going to his execution, not his bonding. The punch that the cube of Blackfire gave to his systems barely dampened his trembling, his anxiousness, his outright fear. Optronix knew that he shouldn't show his fear, because that would make Megatron despise him even more, but he could hardly mask it – and he was sure that the warlord saw right through his trembling façade.

* * *

**Note**: the next chapter will be here only partly, because of the site's prudish rules. The whole chapter will be published on AO3 and only linked here.


	2. Sobering

**Sobering**

The way to his new quarters led through long and empty corridors, devoid of life, dark in the coming night cycle, in a strange contrast to the still noisy and lively throne-room that they'd just left. Megatron was silent and Optronix didn't know what to say either, no matter how he wracked his processor for something to break the heavy silence. The warlord's bodyguards followed them until the door and stood aside when they stepped through it. It must have been a nice room but Optronix couldn't see it or say anything, as his voice box seemed to constrict in fear and anxiety.

Megatron moved on, to the second room and the third and Optronix finally recognized something that stood out in clear strokes even in his dazed stupor – a huge berth fitting in size to his… bonded-to-be. His fear attacked in waves, alternating with a strange elation that he wasn't sure where it came from. He moved over to the berth in a daze, as the warlord apparently didn't want to talk or in any way dispel his fear. Optronix knew that the first time was supposed to hurt, he had plenty of elder siblings and friends who told him about the seals and how it was supposed to go. If Megatron was in any way proportionate, it'd hurt a lot.

"M-megatron…" – Pit he still didn't know what he wanted to say. Just stalling, just saying anything to postpone the inevitable a little more, maybe make him a little less angry… "C-could I have some more high-grade?"

"Didn't you drink enough in the banquet?" – Megatron growled angrily – "I wasn't aware that my intended is a drunkard."

Optronix was totally embarrassed, as it came out very badly. – "I'm not! I'm just… just…"

"Just what?!" – a scowl on the faceplates that Optronix, even in his fear found attractive.

"Afraid…"

Megatron looked at him with a glance that spoke volumes. Great, now he was considered a coward too. This evening truly couldn't get any worse. But Optronix still tried.

"I… I… thought that we could… like talk a bit first?"

"Talk." – Megatron's stare became downright terrifying and Optronix took a step backwards. – "Talking all the time like your worthless liar of a sire, are you?"

"N-no! I thought that… I hoped that… we don't have to be enEMIES!" – he yelped the last of the word as he was pushed backwards onto the berth. Oh, Primus, he was so scrapped. The still growling Megatron filled his whole field of vision and the great frame covered his slighter, smaller one, moving with a surprising speed for one so big. He didn't look the least kinder or calmer than before and Optronix's fear started to swallow him in earnest. He wasn't aroused at all and he started to lose fast that strange attraction too that he felt earlier towards the silver mech.

"Open it." – it was an order not a request. Frag, he hasn't even touched him first, like it was supposed to go. He knew the touches that aroused his frame, he experimented this much for awhile now. Without it, he was in for a Pit of a pain, Optronix was sure, but he had no way to avoid it now. Better get it over as fast as he would… he sent the command to open his interface panel, revealing his sealed spike and the pristine valve. The rest of him was already trembling in anticipation of the pain that it was sure to come. He looked in utter helplessness up at the warlord moving over him, settling his huge, silver frame between his spread legs.

-o-o-o-

Megatron paused as he settled himself over the slighter, trembling, obviously very young mech. For a breem he thought clearly, calmer now that he didn't have to think about that vile Iaconian ruler who left the palace straight after the celebrations. For the first time he contemplated the mech he so far paid little to no attention – the one he'd have to bond with soon. Optronix, he had to admit was easy on the optics, in fact almost beautiful, if he forgot just how small the mech was. Young too, barely a legal adult and fearing the interface. A bit of a bumbler apparently, but that could be because of his apparent fear.

He snorted, high grade flaming his attitude and dispelling the more forgiving mood in a klik. Typical cowardly, simpering, little Iaconians. Civilians. Theoreticians. Politicians. Hahh. No Kaonite would show his fear to anyone, not even if he was in stark terror. It was simply not their way, not the warrior way. And he had to call this simpering weakling his mate… that he was young should be no excuse from cowardice.

...

**Note: the rest of the chapter can be read over at AO3. Link to that can be found in my profile, because ffnet deletes links from here. It contains graphic description of dub-con/non-con.**

**archiveofourown / works / 504710**


	3. Aftermath

**Aftermath**

Optronix was fairly sure that he was deactivated. After what happened he wanted to be dead. But as he floated through the layers of consciousness, he started to dread one thing… that he might still be alive and moreover moving towards onlining. He definitely didn't want that either. It was so calm and peaceful in this dark abyss, wherever it was. Pain-free most of all. He didn't want to leave it and go back to the world of burning pain and screaming agony. But the process didn't stop, no matter how he willed it so.

Well, at least the dark didn't change. The pain was different too; instead of tearing him apart and burning him up it toned down a bit into a sharp , burning throb all though his frame, centering near his spark and… as he started to think of it, spasming through his valve. Or what used to be his valve, as he was fairly sure that Megatron shredded it to tatters. Optronix was alarmed to realize that he was feeling absolutely nothing past his hip joints, unable to move his legs in the slightest.

Not that the rest of him was any more responsive, but at least he felt his arms, as though they were turned into lead and far too heavy to move, and some of his torso plates pinged back with – he wanted to laugh but it came out as a choking, wretched sob – dents of all things. The only part that was more or less pain-free was his helm, where it was just his voice box that felt like scrubbed with steel wool and doused with acid. The result of so much screaming that it fritzed out many times, he supposed.

He tried to switch on his optics and only after a few unsuccessful tries did Optronix realize that they were already online and it was the room that was draped in pitch-black darkness. He gave a small thanks to Primus that he felt or heard no sign of Megatron in the room. After a few kliks of sluggish thinking he retracted the thanks – the slagger didn't deserve it. Not after last night. Maybe not ever, since he was alive, meaning that he'd have to go through it again and again. He shuddered at that thought, or at least tried to.

After trying to move and failing totally in it, he gave up. As sensors came back online they all started to clamor for his attention, sending their pain signals to his processor, which could do nothing about them. He felt that he was laying in a veritable puddle of sticky, cooling fluids, probably a disgusting mixture of transfluid and his own energon. Some of it was drying on his still-hot plating too, creating a messy, obscene and unpleasant layer that he wanted to get rid of.

Time seemed to crawl sluggishly as he lay there, bleeding out his energon, weakening by the breem in the unforgiving, uncaring darkness alone, unable to find a respite or go back to blessedly offline. At first he tried to call someone when he found his broken, staticky voice, whimpering for help, for some mech to do something, to just be there, but only the silence answered. He sobbed without tears, the cleanser long run dry from his optics. The pain ebbed and rose in waves together with his nausea and the urge to purge, but his tanks were empty and he only heaved dryly a few times.

He was alone with the pain. Optronix tried brokenly to think of happier thoughts, of his siblings or his friends but the aching of his frame always pulled him back into the stark reality. Has Megatron just left him here to bleed out and deactivate alone in the darkness? Was he so unimportant, so hated and despised that no mech cared to stop his bleeding or patch him up, not to mention to bring a cube of energon? He was ready to welcome any fate by this time, just to end this misery.

He didn't know how long it was before he heard a door opening and a mech's stepping inside the room. It was a big mech by the reverberations and Optronix sobbed brokenly anew, dreading Megatron again. Light flooded the room and Optronix's straining optics were blinded by the sudden change. He heard a muffled oath and the steps became faster before they came to a stop beside the berth. He couldn't help the trembling starting up. Who was it?

"Stay with me youngling, I'll fix you now." – the voice was that of a stranger, just as the visage that his blearily blinking optics started to see in time, but he didn't sound bad. – "I didn't know it was this bad."

A small sting on his neck cables and blessedly, his body just fell off his sensor-net. Optronix breathed a small vent of relief at being suddenly pain-free. He still felt his spark throbbing in discomfort, but that was nothing compared to the rest of it. No bond though, or he was completely in the dark about what a bond should feel like.

"Are you online, Optronix?" – the mech was a medic probably and he was mopping up the mess of energon and fluids that he was laying in. – "Stay with me, you are going to be fixed now."

"Y-yes…" – he croaked rather than spoke and even to himself it was hard to understand. Still it surprised him that he was able to do this much.

The medic glanced at his faceplates before going back to whatever he was doing. – "Here, drink this. It'll soothe your voice a bit." – he held a small cube to his lipplates and Optronix gulped its contents down with some effort.

Whatever it was, he was glad for it. The smooth fluid had a sweet taste and it did wonders for his intake and voice. He wished there was something like this to soothe his processor and spark too. The medic continued to do things that Optronix didn't really want to know about. The lack of pain and the night spent mostly online in agony made him drowsy and soon he fell into an uneasy and shallow recharge. He felt hungry with all the energon he lost and the overload – at least he supposed that that dark, disgusting explosion-like feeling was an overload, one where he was taken for a ride without his volition. But in time even the hunger seemed unimportant.

When he came online the next time, Optronix felt much better – the pain was mostly gone or muted down to dull aches, his empty tank filling up from a drip connected to a main line in his torso. He felt terribly weak though and still unable to move much. Certainly not strong enough to leave the berth. It was dark again, but his whispered order brought the lights on. Lifting his helm slightly he looked over to his frame, to be sure it was still there. He saw no sign of damage, so the medic did fix him up, but both the berth and his plating had plenty of flaking, dry fluids on them.

He wanted to get rid of it. Optronix knew that he might never feel clean again after this. He wanted to go to the wash-racks that he saw opening from the berthroom and scrub his plating raw to get rid of the fluids. But he couldn't move and he was alone again. His internal chrono said that it was the middle of the night cycle, so he must have recharged almost a whole orn. His self-healing still demanded that he rest more though, and Optronix acquiesced to it.

His next few orns passed much the same way, with Hook, the medic coming every morning to check him and bring energon. After the first time, the medic was all professional, never conversing with Optronix, only about his condition as he healed physically. Mentally, he thought that he never would and his spark was throbbing and flaring sometimes, like it protested against the bond that was imposed on it. By this time he knew that this dull ache in his spark was supposed to be the bond, or the beginning of one.

After he told about it to Hook, one time he felt drowsy after drinking the energon and surprisingly fell into a deep, blessedly dreamless recharge straight away. When he came online again, the throb in his spark lessened, the barely-there bond felt a bit stronger and he had a few silvery scratches on his chest-plates. It happened twice more before he realized what it had to be.

It must have been Megatron and Optronix trembled just from that thought itself. But the warlord didn't touch his valve on these occasions, only his spark; he learned that the new bond always needed to be reinforced by frequent merges before it settled and became a permanent connection. He was thankful that it happened while he was sedated – awake Optronix was sure that he wouldn't be able to force himself to touch Megatron again.

But no matter how the bond strengthened, it still felt like a dead end. Megatron kept his end closed off all the time and Optronix didn't have the mental strength either to re-establish the connection, no matter how many times he tried. His situation was even worse than he'd thought it would be. He couldn't even feel his supposed bondmate, much less talk with him through the bond, like he heard that normal mates could.

The time came when he could stand up and move under his own power – and Hook didn't come any more in the mornings to check on him. Optronix could drag himself on shaking legs into the wash-rack finally and filling the sunken pool, he immersed himself into the warm solvent with an almost happy sigh, the first for a long while. He let it soak through the layers of dried fluids before scrubbing it off himself, resting for a breem every now and then in the job, as he was still weak and trembling from exhaustion. But he didn't stop until he felt his plating clean again, after joors of determined, angry and still sobbing work.

He just had enough strength to clean the berth before dropping in exhaustion onto it and went straight into recharge. His last thought was to desperately hope that Megatron wouldn't come. Tired as he was he had recharged enough in the last few orns, so his offline time was disrupted many times by memory fluxes. But there was no other mech around here to curl to, to feel the calming effect of their nearness, to feel safe. Optronix was young enough to still wish that someone was there, like his siblings whom he could always go when frightened by recharge fluxes.

No such luck here. He onlined alone in the morning, no mech and no sound whatsoever in the suite of rooms he was given. He felt strong enough to discover the chambers, which to his dismay didn't take long. There was an anteroom that he remembered opening onto the corridor outside – but the door was locked securely, so he couldn't leave. It had a table with cubes of energon on it, some storage space and a couple of cleaning droids. It opened into a living room with recliners and sofas around a small table, decorated with pictures on the walls and crystal statues on pedestals.

The berthroom, he already knew, just like the wash-racks opening from it. On the other side, there was a smaller room of indefinite function, but with the only window looking to the outside. Optronix was eager to discover what it showed but after a few kliks he had been sorely disappointed; he could only see a stark wall of the palace's outer curtain, part of a bastion and some roofs underneath. Only a bit of a sky could be seen in the upper corner and the window was barred with strong bars.

Like a prison, his processor whispered uncomfortably, and unfortunately nothing that he saw or experienced so far has refuted that assessment. The door that led to the corridor was locked, the single window barred and he saw no mech else so far but Megatron and Hook. His comm was still set to the Iaconian standard and he didn't even know how to reset it. Megatron handled him like a worthless drone, not even deeming him worthy for answers or conversation and their supposed bond was totally locked down.

There was absolutely nothing he could do here, Optronix realized after only half an orn. No entertainment system, no newscasts, no datapads or games… the rooms were empty of anything but the furniture. The paintings on the wall and the bland view from the single window occupied his attention for a few joors only, before they got boring. No company either, he realized after a few days. No mechs came in, only the servants while he was in recharge, leaving his daily energon in the anteroom's table.

He tried to listen for voices in the window but only the wind raved around the structures, whizzing and whining like it was sympathetic to his mood. Only rarely did the wind die down a bit and sometimes he heard faint, disjointed notes of music fly past his window. Never so coherent that he could identify it, but lacking any other pastime, he sometimes tried to imagine who'd listen to it, what it was or why it was done. He envied those mechs too for having the means and the mood for music.

He was bored out of his processor in a single orn – and Optronix knew that he would probably have to face vorns in the same way. Not even escape would free him, as Megatron would only have to open up the bond and he'd catch Optronix in no time. Provided he could get out of this place. At first it looked impossible, but he knew that if he had to spend vorns with nothing to do, in time he'd find a way to escape. Since that seemed the only thing to do here, Optronix decided to plan an approach to it.

It gave him something to do for maybe a few groons, no more. Whoever designed his rooms made a through work and thought all possibilities. Besides Optronix realized that the story datapads that he remembered might have described several ways of escaping from a prison, but they were invariably either impossible or inapplicable in his situation.


	4. Spark

**warning**: mpreg, miscarriage

* * *

**Spark**

Optronix onlined from recharge but didn't move, aside from powering up his optics. His gaze roamed uninterested circles on the ceiling, recognizing each tiny dent, scratch and mar on the smooth, silver-white metal. None of them changed from the previous orn. Or the one before. The thousand ones before. He idly thought of giving the small imperfections names, he was so familiar with them. Never even a cyberfly moved on that surface, but it was the most often seen sight that he knew.

Two vorns, his processor informed him of the date, exactly two vorns have gone since that pain-filled cycle, his first in this prison. Not even the thought of Megatron possibly coming to… well, definitely not to celebrate, but to take him again, could awaken the slightest interest in him. Even the fear was just a tiny, little emotion curling in his processor, battling with his apathy while numbly reminding him to the pain.

Pain, that by now he was almost used to. Pain that he was regularly put through by his… he paused, a small sob still escaping his vocalizer, by his supposedly bonded mate. It could still hurt, probably the only thing that could. A bond was supposed to be a beautiful connection, a common fate, a feeling of being joined between mates. Optronix knew by this time that he was probably overly romantic about a bond being good, happy union, but then he saw so many such before…

Pain gripped his spark, sadness and loneliness surrounding it, choking it, swallowing it. He sobbed again, tears leaking from his optics, long past caring about showing weakness – no mech ever came to his prison, only Megatron sometimes and Hook if he was too damaged. There were sometimes silent, empty groons before he saw a movement, heard a mech in the tomb-like quiet of his rooms. And then he wished that it didn't come, because Megatron inevitably meant pain and agony.

Optronix lay on the berth, not even bothering to move. The energon cubes that were probably waiting for him in the anteroom didn't interest him. He did nothing these joors, sometimes hasn't moved for orns. There was simply nothing to do here and consequently no need to drink energon when he didn't use it for anything. He even turned off the notifications on his HUD for low fuel as useless. Recharge was enough this way, even as something nudged him to drink some more energon – but the bland taste of the unrefined mid-grade that went stale on his table wasn't alluring in the least.

At the beginning, he tried. Sang whatever songs he could remember, until his own voice echoing in the empty space became too much to bear and sobs swallowed his voice. Recited poems and tales that he learned as youngling until the repetitions emptied them of meaning and mood. Stood for joors in front of the paintings and statues contemplating the artist's intentions and style, crafting similar pieces of art with his imagination. But how long such pitiful things can keep boredom and apathy at bay?

For a time he used to sit by the single window, thinking of Kaon that he barely know something about, the palace he hardly saw of - and ways to escape from it. The window was such an obvious place to start. It was energized since his first attempt and he couldn't sit by it now without risking a painful jolt as warning and a debilitating one if he insisted. And the view wasn't worth it really.

He wasn't even punished for the attempted escape, Megatron, when he came just took him like he always did. He was never intentionally damaging him, just uncaring and rough – and much bigger of course. Optronix was never since the first time as damaged as then, but the interfacing that the warlord forced on him from time to time still necessitated Hook patching him up the orn after.

It didn't matter really. Nothing did. The pain was almost welcome after the bleak aloneness that was his only company. It made him feel something again. Optronix hasn't tried to remember to his previous life, his siblings, teachers, going outside, playing, studying, hoping for a future… for a long time. It just hurt too much to remember how much he'd lost and how little he had to look forward to. It was better burying those memories completely.

Two vorns only and he felt barely more than a sparkless drone. Two vorns alone and he was broken, defeated, empty. His gaze roamed the ceiling again. Nothing changed there. Nothing changed underneath it. There was no reason to move, to think, to feel. None. If he stayed in the berth forever, it wouldn't make the slightest difference. Megatron would just find a way to make him fed, cleaned, and he would use him like before.

His valve and his spark was the only thing the warlord needed from him. Use him until he was sparked and then take away the sparkling as soon as it was possible, to save it from being tainted by its carrier's weakness and fear. He was told this in a cold tone brooking no arguments. He got no chance to prove himself, no opportunity to answer to Megatron, to convince him of his worth. The warlord judged him already and found him lacking. He was so worthless in his optics that he deserved nothing.

Optronix felt his heavy steps making the floor tremble. Unmoving, uncaring, but his senses sharpened in the stillness of the chambers. Megatron's huge frame was passing the first doorway, then the second one and stopping just inside the berthroom. From the corner of his optics Optronix saw his bulk in the doorway, but if he waited for the smaller mech to react, he was wrong. Two vorns, his traitorous meta whispered again. How many more to come?

"You stopped refueling again." – the rough voice didn't make an attempt to sound caring. It sounded frustrated and angry with his possession not taking care of himself.

Optronix didn't answer, didn't even move a digit to show that he heard the admonishment.

"Look at me!" – Megatron was frustrated and angrier by the klik. He didn't want a senseless drone for bondmate. He didn't want him at all, his Sire's support wasn't needed any more, but he still had to put up with this… this worthless little Iaconian in his berth. He jerked on a limp servo but the attached frame just slid closer to him on the berth big enough for both of them, and it still didn't react. He wasn't offline or in recharge, because the optics still shone with their dulled, but still exotic blue shine. They never looked at him directly for a long time.

Suddenly angry, he pulled him off the berth by the arm in his servo and with the same momentum threw him across the room. He didn't even make a sound as he crashed into the wall face first, like a doll with its strings cut and slid down on it to lay in a heap. Megatron suddenly felt a strong twinge through the still closed bond. At the same time a horrible shriek left Optronix's vocalizer, echoing in the chamber and he curled onto his front with every sign of tearing agony in his lines.

What was going on? He couldn't have been injured so much from a simple impact… could he? Megatron commed to Hook to get his aft there straight away and tried to lift the curled-up frame. Optronix continued to shriek in an unholy voice and curled up, trying to push him away and at the same time protect his spark-chamber. That should have been his first clue. The second was the arriving medic who scanned the screaming Optronix and sedated him immediately, not asking his permission to do so.

"My Lord…" – Hook was uncharacteristically somber. – "I must ask if this… violence was intentional or not."

"What the Pit you mean medic?" - Megatron growled angrily, but for once Hook didn't back down.

"I believed that you were trying to spark your mate, My Lord."

"What is it has to do with… of course I was. I need an heir! What are you insinuating?"

"Optronix is with spark." – Hook bowed his helm sadly – "But not for long I'm afraid."

"WHAT?!"

"He is not fighting to keep it… the trauma from the crash started the newspark to detach and start its way down to the protoform. But the protoform is nowhere near ready for it, probably just a few orns since its assembly started. Its only chance would be for Optronix to call it back with his own spark, but he isn't doing it."

"Why? And why don't you awaken him and tell him to do it?" – Megatron was nearly taking his rage out on the mechs at hand, but he knew that he shouldn't. Not at the moment. – "I order you to wake him up and save my heir from termination!"

Hook just looked at him incredulously, apparently torn between giving him a piece of his processor and just throw his servos up in the air. There were things that obeyed a ruler's orders and there were things that definitely didn't. Hook patched up Optronix enough times to know perfectly well that the young mech lost every ounce of will to live long ago. There was no way he'd want to do anything to save the already sputtering, weakening sparklet. Even if he could, which he wasn't sure.

Optronix was a young mech and likely not even aware of the fact that he was with spark. Even less possible was that he'd know what to do in this specific case. But his self-preservation won and Hook shrugged, injecting Optronix with the stimulant to wake up. For the newspark it probably didn't matter already. Megatron grasped a slim shoulder and turned the slowly awakening mech towards him. He was already screaming and Hook winced. This was what he wanted to spare him – the agony of the sparkling breaking free of his spark.

"Save my heir, hear me?!" – Megatron shook him forcefully, probably further traumatizing the already weakening Optronix. The process put a strain on his spark too, not only affected the sparklet. He didn't answer to Megatron, didn't even appear to hear him. The only conscious movement was to draw his servos over his spark, feeling the pain there – but the rest of his frame was limp, unresisting.

Hook passed the scanner over his chest-plates but couldn't find the signs of the newspark. Lowering it he just caught the flickering signal in the gestation chamber before it guttered out. A keening howl followed it from the young mech and a pained growl from Megatron who also felt it even through the closed bond. Hook didn't want to say it aloud, but he had to.

"It is gone, My Lord."

Megatron threw down Optronix's half-offline frame and started to pace in the chamber. He looked mightily angry, furious even, but he was sane enough to know that it was not his mate's fault. He looked uncharacteristically hesitant and indecisive, almost guilty. Hook lifted the limp frame back to the berth and scanned him for damage. There was a deep indent on the chest-plates and looking at the wall Hook saw the cause of it too – a fixture on the wall that he was thrown into.

"I caused the newspark to detach and terminate, didn't I?" – Megatron's voice was still angry but tinged with a barely hid sadness.

"I… I'm afraid it is the case, My Lord." – Hook didn't look at him, he busied himself with fixing the slight injuries on Optronix's frame. He sedated the young mech again, now that it didn't matter any more.

"I didn't know that he was with spark." – he murmured it more to himself than to the medic; not as an explanation, just to state the fact itself.

"Probably Optronix didn't know about it either, My Lord. It was less than a groon old, the protoform barely started to be assembled." – Hook choose not to mention that even without the newspark in the picture, it was totally unbecoming for a mech of Megatron's size to brutalize his poor, much smaller mate. Optronix hasn't made a rebellious move since his escape attempt was thwarted and Hook saw that he'd tried to comply Megatron in anything even at the cost of his own pain – only the warlord didn't seem to notice it. Or care.

"It is still my fault." – he looked lost in his thoughts of which Hook didn't really want to know about – "I'll have to make up to him when he awakens."

Megatron noticed his medic's incredulous glance at him.

"What is it?"

"Uhh… My Lord… I'm not sure… I mean surely you saw the state Optronix is in lately?"

"Listless, unresponsive, like he let himself go? Yes." – he scowled, apparently ascribing the symptoms to the smaller mech's weakness and disdaining him for it. – "Why?"

"It would take, ummm, quite a lot to 'make up' to him." – Hook decided that if his Lord was this thick, then he must need some sobering up. – "I would say that it would take a lot to keep him from letting himself deactivate."

"Why?"

"Because he is a bright, young mech imprisoned and used ruthlessly as a breeder…?" – oops. Hook didn't want to be so straightforward, but it just wanted to be told. - "Because he was completely alone with no mech for company, and he had nothing to do here, to take his mind off his fate – that is, to be raped brutally and regularly?"

Hook thought that Megatron would be exploding at him for saying things so openly, but the warlord just stared at the inert frame of Optronix on the big berth. Probably for the first time, he really looked at him, considering and noticing the details. The faded colours on his once bright and shiny frame, the dull, lifeless optics, the numerous scratches on the repaired but never repainted pelvic plates and thighs. The sheer, almost sterile emptiness of the room, devoid of not only personality but any form of entertainment or pastime.

Yes, he had ordered that no mech could enter to his rooms and he cannot leave them before a sparkling has emerged. He had a reason for it; as Kaon's ruler, his mate had to prove his worth, and if not he would be challenged, probably deactivated in the ensuing duel. A warrior state cannot have a weak mate for its ruler. Only having a sparkling would give him a way out from that situation. It was for his protection, Megatron told himself. Only the explanation felt quite empty even for him now.

As Optronix has never sparked he was kept separated from his people all the time. Megatron never thought what it'd mean to the young Iaconian in orn to orn living. That, barring his visits, the young mech was completely alone, sometimes for groons, no hearing a word, not having a companion, unable to meet even with the servants to ask for things he needed, that could have made his loneliness a bit more bearable. And he wasn't exactly a companion for the young mech either.

"Can he spark again?" – the question was sudden and unexpected.

"Not easily. Not soon. Certainly not while the only thing he wants is to offline permanently." – Hook didn't mention that with the shallow, mostly one-sided merges it was a small miracle to be sparked at all. He so wasn't criticizing his Lord's interfacing style, he wanted to stay alive. Lord Megatron would have to find that out for himself.

"I intend to give him a reason to continue functioning." – Megatron looked… pensive. – "And making up for my earlier… misconceptions."

Hook looked skeptic but hid it well. – "I understand My Lord."

"You may leave, medic. You'll do regular check-ups on him from now on."

"As you command, My Lord." – Hook stood up and started to leave. Stopping at the doorway, he glanced back to the room. Megatron didn't move, didn't give any sign that he saw his leaving.

"What about the started protoform in him?" – the question reached him already on the outside and Hook had to step back to answer. – "It'll be reabsorbed naturally, My Lord. I'll check on it next orn."

"I see."

After the medic left, Megatron continued to watch the offline frame of his mate on the berth. It was big, to accommodate his own frame, but bare too, with not even a headrest or blanket in sight to make it more comfortable or just homely. There was nothing on the small table by it either, no datapad, no personal possession, nothing. Optronix didn't have anything to put there. A cube half full with old, stale energon sat at the corner of the room, on a side-table. Some of the energon was on the table and Megatron leaned over it to examine – it didn't look like just being spilled.

Turning his helm from the way it would look from the berth he saw. A picture of sorts, scratched with careful strokes into the metal and the faint lines filled with energon that thickened like some strange sort of paint. The scene was unfinished, the lines ending suddenly, but they depicted mechs at various activities. Probably his former family or friends, his processor whispered. Of whom he didn't know anything since he left Iacon, barred from even contacting them.

Continuing his prowling, Megatron stepped into the washracks. It too was painfully empty of anything personal – and as he discovered of anything useful too. The tins of wax and polish were all empty, their contents ran out long ago by the look of it. A single, threadbare wash-cloth lay on one side of the solvent-bath. So this is why his colours looked so faded, his plating so dull, he mused, crumpling the small cloth in his talons. In the middle of the riches of the palace, he lived poorer than a servant…

Megatron felt worse by the klik, the pangs of his conscience a completely new feeling for the always self-assured, proud warlord. He didn't exactly mean any of this, not really. He didn't intend to be cruel to Optronix, but by negligence, ignorance and his hatred for Ultra Magnus projected on his creation he still caused it. Let it gone for vorns, until eventually it came to head. The destruction of the newspark was, in a way just the inevitable conclusion of his ignorance and coldness.

Throwing down the old washcloth, he returned to the berthroom. Optronix was still out and he'd be for some time. Time enough to think over what he did wrong – and more importantly how he could make them right. It wasn't going to be easy, he knew. He remembered the utter terror in those blue optics the first few times he came, knowing of the pain that was to come and not able to do anything against it. He never cared to make interfacing easier for the smaller mech. Never once he lavished a tender touch on him to make him aroused, to spare him the pain of being taken dry and hard.

For the life of him, Megatron couldn't truly tell why. He was a good lover with his few partners before, even as he was aggressive and dominating as befitting his nature and station. Still, he could make his berthmates, even the smaller ones aroused and enjoying the interface, so why didn't he do it for the one supposed to be his bonded mate? True, he was murderously angry with his Sire, that manipulative glitch Ultra Magnus – but he shouldn't have projected that hate onto the young and completely innocent Optronix. Not for so long anyway.

Suddenly a scene popped up from his memory banks, of their bonding ceremony. Optronix, sitting on his left, unobtrusively glancing at him, the anxiousness in his optics slowly transforming into interest, almost lust, or as close to it as the inexperienced, untouched young mech could feel it. He should have acted on that, making the smaller mech feel on his side, welcomed despite of the circumstances. It wasn't as though he didn't like Optronix, once he could see him with a clearer processor.

Well, he botched that chance totally and then continued it in the same vein. Or worse. He probably long destroyed any interest or positive attitude from the younger mech that he could use now to set things right. But Megatron wasn't a mech to give up things. Optronix was bonded to him and that bond could not be dissolved. Nor did he want to take other mates. Therefore, if he wanted an heir, he would have to solve this mess – make up for Optronix for the maltreatment, make the mech want to live again, and finally, make him… well, to get him love Megatron was a tall order, but accepting should be enough.

He continued to watch the offline form of the mech, while started to make some comm calls. Fortunately, Kaon was in peace with her neighbors at the moment and he secured those relations with treaties that should last for vorns if needed. The ornly running of the city-state could be divided between Shockwave and Soundwave, they were pestering him enough to take some time off from managing the kingdom. It meant that he could dedicate most of his time to Optronix. High time.


	5. Change

**Change**

Optronix onlined from recharge but didn't move, aside from powering up his optics. His gaze roamed its regular circles on the ceiling, recognizing each tiny dent, scratch and mar on the smooth, silver-white metal… before the usual routine was broken because of a strong, painful throb from his spark. He tried to recall what happened yesterorn to be the cause of the new pain. With a strong shudder, he remembered Megatron as the warlord yanked him by his limp servo, saying something angry and disdainful. But after that… only disjointed images of Hook, Megatron, pain and for some reason energon came up from his memory banks.

His spark twanged like it was missing something… something that should be important, but he just couldn't remember what it was. A servo rose and he hesitantly touched his chest, trying to remember something. There was pain but it was different from the usual one, caused by the hard and uncaring interfaces that Megatron forced on his frame. It centered in his spark and Optronix sobbed once, mourning something that he wasn't even aware of. For a few kliks he thought that it was the closed-off bond – but that was different too.

He turned his helm slightly to cast an uninterested look around the room and he froze suddenly as his glance fell on the doorway leading to the sitting room. He saw these rooms so many times that he could pick up every mote that changed place – and now there was a huge frame sitting in one of the armchairs, just by the door, doing nothing, not even moving. A huge, silvery frame that he came to know and fear. Megatron.

What was the warlord doing there, Optronix had no idea. He never before lingered even for kliks after he finished in the smaller mech and came down from his overload, much less stayed till the day cycle and it put a plethora of new fears into the young mech's processor, awakening him from the disinterested stupor. What new torment had he made up, what could the silver mech still rob him of? Optronix was sure that he had nothing left, neither material goods, nor any emotions or feelings beside pain and terror. Still, he learned not to expect anything in the least positive from him.

He whimpered quietly and scooted backwards, towards the wall, to try and hide – but there was no place to hide, not even the false security of a thermal blanket on the berth to cover his poor, battered frame with it. His spark throbbed again strongly, painfully, fully waking him up from the lethargy. What was going on? The shaking got stronger as Megatron didn't move, just stared at him unnervingly. The glare wasn't angry or malicious, it wasn't enraged or disdaining – it was blank almost, like the mech wasn't quite there, lost in his own thoughts.

By the time the life returned to Megatron's stare and the mech stood up to cross the threshold into the berthroom, Optonix was wracked by nervous tremors. But when the huge, silvery frame stopped by the berth, he didn't make a move to heave himself over his trembling one, like he always did, didn't come close enough even to touch him. He held out a servo and offered Optronix a cube of energon almost gently and it confused the Pit out of the smaller mech.

He stared up to him with wide optics, one servo instinctly coming up to his aching spark again, in a subconscious motion of defending it. Had he had some more space, he would have backed off even more, but the wall stopped him. But Megatron didn't come closer, didn't make any move other than holding out the cube, apparently fully prepared to keep it there before he took it. Optronix thought he knew by this time how Megatron worked but this was completely new. Almost like… like he was contrite. No, that couldn't be it, he thought. Megatron, feeling remorse? Impossible.

But when the warlord spoke it too was unexpected. He spoke so little to him, discouraging, often outright stopping him when he tried to talk with him before. Even for a mech of few words, he was silent with him and whenever Optronix tried to ask or tell something he got angry, resentful, growling about despicable, backstabbing blabbermouths. The young Iaconian was fairly sure that this attitude stemmed from his Sire's manipulations that Megatron never hid as being extremely revolting him. But this time he initiated the discourse, such as it was…

"I won't touch you until you are again comfortable with it." – Megatron stated in a voice intended to be soft, but only managing to be less grumpy than usual, especially at the second part. – "No need to be afraid of me."

Megatron still couldn't quite shed the ingrained reflex to consider showing fear a weakness and disdaining it. Once he had thought it over, he could understand Optronix showing it – he wasn't raised as Kaonites were, he wasn't trained to hide it, he was still too young and he had plenty of reasons to feel it around Megatron. Unfortunately understanding hasn't made it easier to accept it too. So far in his life there was no reason to consider that other ways of functioning could be just as valid as his own. The Kaonite way was successful, effective and good enough for him, for his people and he could conquer other city-states who were weaker.

Therefore it was quite hard for the warlord to force himself to accept that his mate should be so different, so weak and cowardly. Well, not exactly cowardly, he conceded, as Optronix was after all brave enough to accept the bonding with him and come to Kaon, to live in their way. That should count for something, he thought, and with some coaching he could be molded to a bit more… hardy. And if the youngster did that, he could in return try to be a bit warmer, more accepting towards him.

Yes, Megatron thought, that could work. He'd make an effort to conform a bit to the Iaconian's expectations and later he'd see what he could do to make a warrior out of him. But even decided as he was, he couldn't quite keep the contempt out of his voice and expression, much as he tried to. He wasn't used to modulate his vice to be calming or friendly, because there was never a need to do so and it showed. He could do nothing about looking like a warrior, bigger, stronger and… well, intimidating either.

The slight wince from Optronix showed that he understood the tone of voice perfectly – the younger mech became quite adept at reading his moods that admittedly ranged only from bad to worse as far as he knew. But his trembling lessened by a minuscule amount and he moved cautiously forward to pick the proffered cube hesitantly from his servos. Timidly glancing up to him, Optronix nodded slightly to show his thanks – not yet trusting his voice to be steady enough.

He sipped from the cube and his optics widened – it was neither the ornly mid-grade, the kind he was invariably given so far, nor one of the more powerful high-grades, but a sweetened variety of energon, usually given to sparklings and younglings. It was purported to have calming properties, besides signifying affection and Optronix hadn't even seen such a cube for vorns, much less tasted one. Even his Sire frowned upon such an indulgence from his almost-adult creations and he never expected Megatron to know of it, much less to give him one. If it wasn't symbolic, then he totally misjudged the situation.

Megatron withdrew once the cube was picked up hesitantly from his servo, not wanting to crowd the visibly frightened smaller mech needlessly. The peace-offering was accepted and he took that as a good sign to begin with. He was glad that Optronix was more responsive than lately, and he guessed the sparkling was the main reason for it. He sat into an armchair that he placed just by the door, far enough so his mate wouldn't feel threatened but close enough so they could talk. During the time Optronix was offline, he had time to think, to decide how he was going to do it. Slowly and step by step, because if he botched it he'd get no other chance.

"Optronix…" – he paused, still not sure of how to express it, despite of the preparation, but plunging on anyway – "I wronged you by behaving like I did. I… I am sorry." – it felt unnatural to apologise and he almost fouled it up with a scowl, but stopped the grimace before it could show. The apology was, as he felt instinctly, the right thing to do, something he must say aloud, no matter how it galled him. – "I wish to make up for it to you, set things right, and maybe in time have a… a normal relationship. If we still can."

He stopped, only then daring to look at Optronix, who froze at the first sound of his statement. The smaller mech stared at him with a frozen, incredulous disbelief, like he wasn't sure if his audials or processors were working perfectly and he was truly hearing what he thought to hear. Megatron supposed that it must have been a tremendous shock to see him change completely and suddenly and he didn't blame Optronix not to believe it at once. But at least it made him listen and not withdraw into himself.

"Wha… why now?" – he asked in a suspicious and still very much afraid, small voice. – "Y-you never cared before…"

"It was wrong." – Soundwave advised him not to mention the terminated sparkling so soon, so he tried to avoid the issue. – "I suppose I didn't care because of your Sire. I'm sure you gathered this much."

"Yes… yes, I know that you hated my Sire." – Optronix was a bit less afraid by now, like he wanted desperately to hope that his change was truly a deep one and lasting. He was still so painfully young and craving so much for any kind of a positive attitude, an approval, a word of goodwill or friendliness, eager to grasp at the perceived opportunity… - "But I never knew why you hated me…" – he finished the sentence quietly, pain spearing his spark by the look of it. - "Have I done something against you…?"

"No! Well, not anything in particular. But I never hated you, Optronix…" – it was almost painful to see how he flinched at the use of his designation but Megatron plunged on, trying to choose his words with care, softening the expressions as he spoke. It was harder work than an energon-stained battle and far more uncomfortable. – "… I just… I guess I expected you to be more like… like we are. The Iacon way is quite… foreign to us. If you learn more about it, you'll see."

Optronix nodded quietly, as he indeed knew this and suspected as much. But the sudden change made him cautious and suspicious still. They both know all of this before even the bonding, so it should have been no surprise to Megatron either. He still felt almost like being dead inside, but the unexpected behaviour of Megatron still tickled his meta, made him interested about its reason. He was still careful though, not quite trusting in the warlord.

"B-but what changed it now? I mean, I don't want to question you of course…"

Megatron flinched at the hurriedly added sentence, clearly meant to placate his anger, should he choose to take umbrage at the question. It was almost painful to see him try to understand the situation but at the same time fearing that a wrong question or just a word could throw Megatron back to his angry mood, which was basically the only one he knew. The young mech wasn't stupid, far from it, and he learned through hard lessons that the warlord's anger was painful and long.

"Something happened that made me realize how unfair I was towards you, Optronix. We will talk of it later when you trust me more, if that's all right…?" – the terminated sparkling was a taboo subject so far if he didn't want to forever alienate the younger mech. His brother was quite adamant on this and he had more experiences with such matters.

"Yes… okay, I guess." – Optronix glanced downwards submissively, drawing a bit more back and into himself - he didn't want to stretch the warlord's patience that so far seemed to hold. He'd take the not-angry Megatron any orn, and if he wasn't going to tell him what made him change, then he wouldn't ask. Not yet. Not while he himself felt this cold emptiness inside, that he had no explanation for.

"I realized that by separating you from my people, you suffered hardship here. I had a reason for it, but it was still not my intention, only I ignored the signs."

"What reason?" – maybe he could ask this much.

"As my… bondmate you could be challenged to a fight, a duel. Some of my more ambitious nobles would be eager to see you deactivated and through it me brought down." – Megatron was eager to explain at least this part, as it was true and not precisely something he could be blamed for. – "Obviously, you wouldn't be able to fight successfully with anyone from Kaon and I couldn't risk it. Isolating you from my mechs seemed to be the solution at the time."

"Ahh… I see." – Optronix was on one servo glad that his isolation actually had a logical reason for it; but on the other servo dismayed by the revelation as it would mean that he could never leave these rooms, no matter Megatron's mood and attitude-change towards him.

"Does it mean that I'm forever… locked up here… alone?" – he asked with a suddenly dry intake and fighting off unwanted, shameful tears that always seemed to irk the warlord, slim shoulder slumping dejectedly. Megatron had a sudden urge to hug those sad shoulders to make him happier, to dispel the hopeless sadness – but he knew that at the moment he'd just worsen the situation if he made any such advance.

"No. I can make some arrangements. I have already made some. You will have a servant from Kalis here and in time, with some secrecy and guards you can visit the city as well. Also, once you are sparked, it means that you won't, can't be challenged." – not much he could offer him right now, but a start anyway.

Optronix visibly perked up at the first part of Megatron's speech, but if the warlord thought that he'd be glad for the last part, he was mistaken. Of course he was glad to hear that his prison would be a bit lighter and he'd have a company in it soon. But being sparked meant interface and merging, the things that he came to associate with terror and pain. Besides it didn't happen in two vorns and Primus knew he did everything for it to succeed, despite of the pain it meant to him… Still, he repressed the nervous shuddering of his insides and answered with forced thankfulness and a show of happiness, lest Megatron would again get angry…

"I understand My Lord… thank you for the… company. I've always wanted a sparkling too, to fulfill the contract and… if it meant my freedom then I'd want it even more… despite everything…"

"Optronix… it is… I mean…" – Megatron fumbled with the words, now even more uncomfortable with what he had to say. – "I caused you pain… that way. I meant when I said that I won't touch you again, until you can… trust me. Interface shouldn't hurt… so far I was careless and injured you. I don't want to do that ever again."

Optronix couldn't dare to believe what he heard. No, he must be still recharging and dreaming of Megatron changing from an utterly sparkless monster into a caring bondmate from one cycle to the next. Such things only happened in sappy romance stories that he loved to read while he was younger. He stared at dream-Megatron, waiting for the pleasant fantasy to end now that he discovered that it was only a dream.

"Optronix? What is the problem?" – Megatron grew worried as his mate totally zoned out and stared at him unblinkingly, without a word.

"'m I dreaming, right?" – Optronix mumbled, mostly to himself. It was a persistent dream. A good one, but then it must end now that he realized its nature.

Megatron felt like a monster for that small utterance. That Optronix would think that it was all just a dream, that he couldn't even imagine him to be kinder, caring for real… he didn't believe him still. Of course… why would he? He gave the younger mech no proof yet, only words. He stood suddenly, his mouthplates tightened at the small flinch that Optronix made at his movement, but he couldn't sit any longer. Megatron was a mech of action not words.

"No, Optronix, it is not a dream. I mean every word that I said and you'll see proof of it soon enough." – he made no move to close the distance to the smaller mech, still curled up in a ball, almost lost on the too big berth. It would have been too early to try and initiate any contact, be it gentle or otherwise. He'd let Optonix see the changes first, gain some measure of trust and then try to reacquaint to him.

After he left, Optronix debated for a few kliks between wanting to believe him and afraid to do so – but at the end his tiredness won and without a decision, he fell back into the half-recharge that – unknown to him – was his self-repair nanites doing their work on the barely formed protoform, reabsorbing its parts into his frame. He was puzzled by the sudden tiredness and the unusual aches that went with it, but he had no way of knowing its reason. That he was so used to pains and aches at his age so they didn't cause any particular alarm to him was the testament to Megatron's careless roughness so far.

The warlord seemed… almost believable in what he said and serious without being angry. Optonix hoped that it wasn't just wishful thinking, just his yearning to have his fate get better. But did he dare to hope at this time? Did he dare to believe, to trust, just to have his hopes crushed again? He didn't know. He wanted to trust Megatron, because he had no other hope. As he emptied the cube of the sweet energon, just before falling into recharge, he decided to do so. His fate can't be worse than it was now anyway. It could only improve… and any improvement would be worth making an effort. He could make an effort if Megatron gave him a chance, that much he was sure.

* * *

**Note**: I haven't mentioned the question of the bond intentionally. Simply, neither of them dares to open it up just yet.


	6. Too easy

**Too easy**

Megatron left to the anteroom and admitted the mech from Kalis, who was going to be Optronix's personal servant and companion. Avara was a foreign sparked bond-servant, meaning that he had to serve the ruling House until his upgrade price was met by his service, but a free mech afterwards. He was promised instant freedom as soon as Megatron judged that Optronix was ready to spark again and the mech knew that it was a rare opportunity to him; instead of hundreds of vorns in servitude, he could be free as soon as Optronix sparked.

With a few parting orders, Megatron left the chambers to let his mate become familiar with his servant and the other, more material changes he ordered to be made. Avara started to cart the supplies left in the anteroom into the berthroom, and stopped when the blue-red mech in there, Optronix stared at him like he saw a ghost – and when he saw it, he turned away shyly, curling in on himself on the berth. He was half in recharge, only woken up a bit by the servant's entrance.

"My Lord? I'm Avara, your servant from now on. I'll be happy to help you in anything, be it a request, service or company, whenever you wish it."

"Avara?" – Optronix looked up at him with something almost like interest, but he was still visibly timid and hasn't moved from the berth yet. The servant was even smaller than him, with the usual, exotic silver optics of the Kalisians, set into a deep green of his frame. – "Interesting designation." – he mumbled, quietly, like to himself.

"Ohh, I know. My carrier was totally into romantic datapads and gave me a designation out of one such story." – the green mech bowed at his new master and motioned respectfully. – "Do you wish to check what I brought? I understand that my lord was somewhat lacking things and bored."

The servant mech was of course enlightened as to exactly how much dejected Optronix was and continued to cheerfully chat inconsequentials, while he sorted the objects and stored them into places around. Optronix was sitting almost unmoving on the berth, looking like still half-recharging, half interested; listening but never answering to him. He tried to make him at ease until the mech actually took interest in the things that he handled and left the berth to have a look at them. So far he only followed his movement from there, but Avara could tell that he was close to moving out of the dejected shell he'd withdrawn into.

When he placed a platter with various energon treats onto the table, Optronix couldn't hold himself back any more. He hasn't seen or ate a treat or candy since the bonding ceremony and he loved them before, like all younglings. The temptation was too great to pass it up and even the uncharacteristic tiredness couldn't stop him. He softly slipped off the berth and sneaking quietly and carefully around the servant, targeted the table with the platter on it, picking one from it as soon as he was close enough.

Avara didn't disturb him and kept his distance, but a quick glance shocked him more than the whole orn's lecture from Lord Megatron and his vizier, Lord Soundwave. Optronix held the gelled candy in his servo like one would a rare treasure and Avara saw even a tear or two glistening in the corner of his optics. He looked far too young and innocent to be here and had endured what he was told about in vague terms. As he moved, the younger mech startled and snatching a few treats, he retreated to the berth hurriedly.

Avara did move the platter to the berthside table but he said nothing, thoroughly shocked by the Iaconian mech's apparent fear. It was even worse than he thought. As a small, clearly nonmilitary mech and a foreign-sparked servant, Avara never before met with any mechs in Kaon who were afraid of him. It was a completely new feeling and he wasn't sure how to act in such a situation. He'd thought that Optronix would be afraid of the warlord Megatron and he was prepared to help him with that – but it seemed that first he himself would have to gain the young mech's trust.

Optronix glanced at the servant timidly when he came closer, but the treat interested him far more. He bit into it and was promptly lost in the sensation. It was even better than he remembered it… someone – Megatron? Must have been… – went into great lengths to present a wide variety of goodies, probably so he could find his favourites among them. The sweetish, tangy taste brought back all sorts of memories that he ruthlessly kept repressed so far, and he blinked back a tear too. Enjoyment and painful memories vied in his meta for breems before the energon treat won and Optonix willfully immersed himself in the so-long missed pleasant sensation of the taste.

He glanced after the retreating servant, Avara and when he disappeared, Optronix looked around at what he brought. If it was the first sign of Megatron's changing his attitude, he wasn't objecting to it. Even if they were just material goods, they proved a little bit of his sincerity. The back wall was now covered with a huge stand, its shelves covered with datapads that he was itching to read. Beside it, a half-opened crate held art supplies and games. Even from the berth, he could see a corner of a new screen in the living room, presumably for watching entertainment or hopefully accessing the cybernet. He might even be able to contact to his siblings…?

He still felt tired though, and picked a datapad randomly to have something while nibbling on the treats. It was, by accident about Kaon itself, the city state and its society mainly – something that actually interested Optronix, even after all this time. He settled at the corner of the berth, his usual spot that now became just a bit more comfortable with the pillows that he used to make a sort of a nest for himself. It gave a sense of security to be shielded from the rest of the room, even as he knew that Avara wasn't a danger – but he had gotten used to being alone and perceiving another mech nearby he associated with unpleasant things.

Tired, sated for the first time in vorns, even if it was just from some comfort food, Optronix fell back into the half-recharge, dropping the datapad after the first few chapters. He'd want to read it, because the topic was interesting, not to mention useful, but this strange tiredness still plagued him. One servo rose to his chest and scratched lightly his chest-plates over the spark-chamber. Had he been more awake, Optronix would have tried to think about it, as the aching void was seriously worrying but recharge claimed him soon now that he had enough fuel in him.

When he onlined it was for some kliks only that he thought all that happened as a hopeful dream – but then he felt the edge of the datapad against his servo, the pillows around and the smell of the energon treats and knew it to be real. Feeling stronger and eager than he did for a vorn Optronix stood and left the berth to see what he had now. Being an active, still very young mech, any kind of activity appealed him more than the apathetic lying on the berth that was only a last resort, not his choice. Given the opportunities now, he gladly left it behind.

Every room he had was restocked with things he missed so far, some he didn't even know to be missing. At least boredom wasn't going to be a danger now. While he gleefully indulged in the amenities that the wash racks now provided, Avara came in to offer his help in washing and polishing too. The small, green mech was so careful not to remind him of anything threatening that after a few, tense breems, he tentatively nodded to him – and he didn't regret it, as he enjoyed getting the first massage in vorns after a thorough wash and polishing.

Tension simply melted out of his frame along with aches that he was so used to that only their absence was noticeable. Avara was truly a professional, knowing well when he had to stay quiet and turn on a soft, relaxing music to spell the quiet from the rooms. He also knew when to leave Optronix again, as the massage and polishing was completed and again he started to glace at him nervously. He brought some energon into the living room, arranging the smaller cubes on the table, in a semi-formal setting to choose from.

"I'll be nearby, My Lord…" – he told only, discreetly withdrawing before he knew Lord Megatron was to come again – "If you have need of me, just signal me from the console and I'll be straight here."

Optronix nodded demurely, watching him to retreat quietly. He still wasn't used to having a servant again who did things around him and helped to wash or polish his armour. Sure, they had many in Iacon, but Optronix was never allowing himself to depend on servants much. Some, who were in his age were more like his friends than servants and he played and trained a lot with them, but mainly met with their services only during formal dinners and occasions. Avara reminded him of a mech he liked way back in Iacon, Greenfield who taught him protocol and etiquette in a way that made the strict and dry subject appealing even to the younglings. He was perceptive in a same way, deducing his mood correctly and conforming to it whenever he could. But this time, he felt the servant's departure wasn't about himself, rather than a visitor he was sure to come soon.

He had a feeling that he'd see Megatron a lot more than before and if he was to be believed in a different way too. He wasn't sure how to take that, how to react to the warlord if he came again. Sure, he decided to make an effort to believe his change, but the mech still caused a strut-deep dread to awaken in him that was hard to hide. And any sign of fear or perceived weakness on Optronix's part still annoyed the warlord, no matter how he tried to hide that reaction the orn before. It was a seemingly unsolvable circle of reactions between them.

Optronix picked up the datapad he'd started before – it was useful as it described Kaon in detail, far more so than he could ever learn in Iacon. The warrior way… it was in fact highly ironic, he mused in himself, as back in the Iacon court he was considered something of an oddity, because he'd always insisted in attending the warrior training, something that most nobles, courtiers and even his Sire disdained as fitting only for the lower caste, the military bots. True, he didn't want to become a warrior, he enjoyed learning diplomacy and the details of running a kingdom too, but servo to servo fighting had a strange appeal to him that he never even tried to repress.

He hoped that Megatron's change in attitude could give him the opportunity to practice again somehow; even with all the new entertainment opportunities, the sedate life in his chambers would be boring in time. After all, he was a Kaonite, he should appreciate Optronix wanting to learn their way, right? He'd just have to be careful in how to tell it to him. This protection from challenges thing complicated matters tremendously and if the datapad was to be believed, it was more widespread and popular than he'd've thought.

His thoughts were shattered by the familiar silver frame entering the living room and after observing him for a few kliks, awkwardly trying to find a place close enough to talk but far enough to avoid intimidating. Optronix decided to go to meet halfway for his efforts and silently he pointed out the arrangement for dinner at the table that Avara left them. It was a good placement with the whole table separating them and the small cubes gave them plenty of excuses to fidgeting servos and nervous processors. Megatron nodded and they took their places silently. Awkward and nervous as the whole thing was it was still a step forward and they both felt it so.

"Optronix. I'm… glad to see you up and…" – Megatron waved around, not quite knowing what he wanted to express exactly that would be polite enough. – "…around."

He recognized the datapad in Optronix's servo and took it as a good omen that he'd pick that one – it meant he was at least open to learn about their way of life. The timid nod was about as much of an answer as he expected, the young mech tensing up at his entrance. Not only he didn't flee back to the berth but actually came out of the berthroom on his own. He looked much better than the orn before, and even though that was just an appearance, he put it down too as a good sign.

"Is there anything else that you would like to have?"

"N-no… thank you." – Optronix hasn't even checked out everything that was brought in the previous orn. He picked up a small, green cube and sipped from it, to give him a bit of a courage. It did have a smell of a lighter kind of high-grade to it and the taste was agreeable too. Megatron lifted a similar cube towards him in a silent salute and Optronix suddenly realized that the warlord was at least as nervous as himself and similarly having trouble to speak up too. Their situation was strange and new to the both of them. Interestingly, the realisation calmed Optronix quite a bit, which, added to the courage from the high—grade made him speak up.

"I'm grateful for the amenities that you've provided." – it never hurt to be polite Optronix learned a long time ago, even if it was a tiny bit false – "I know that I'm not what you'd expected as a life-mate, but I can try to change, to be more like… what you need." – there, and if it came out a bit lame, he didn't mind it. It was what he tried to express from the very beginning, only to have Megatron ignore it all the time. Maybe now he was willing to listen…? He had to know how deep this change was. The small flash of surprise in Megatron's optics was a hopeful sign.

"I… I am glad to hear that… I must admit that I never expected you to be open to our ways." – he was almost confused and Optronix hoped desperately that it wouldn't turn to anger again.

"Because of my Sire? Or you have that low opinion of us, Iaconians?"

"Well… yes. I mean Ultra Magnus has never bent a micrometer during our negotiations and the other Iacon nobles all seemed the same as him. They all behaved like looking down on us, barbarians." – he struggled not to get angry again and tell Optronix with some choice words just how much the overbearing, arrogant attitude of the Iaconians annoyed him these last few vorns. No, that wouldn't do at all to lump him together with those mechs again. That was what caused the problems in the first place.

"I can see now that I should have given you a benefit of doubt. You are… you seem different from your Sire." – there it was. It felt somehow right to say this aloud and he saw Optronix perk up at it too.

"I could never agree with my Sire in virtually anything. His philosophy is that for the good of Iacon and our family any tools, any weapons can be used. Even dishonesty, manipulation, blackmailing… there is nothing he wouldn't do. Including selling his own creations to force an alliance…" – he suddenly felt the spark-ache again and absentmindedly rubbed his chest plates. – "I never liked or agreed with this attitude, but he was the ruler of Iacon and me… just a pawn."

"If I'd known this before… many things would have been different." – Megatron rued now more than ever that he never listened to his mate before. Apparently he could have had a real mate, an ally and more if he had. Well, it might not be too late… - "I seem to have seriously misjudged you."

Could it be this easy, Optronix wondered. Well, not exactly easy, as it took two painfully long vorns and an unknown event to make him listen, but still, Megatron was shockingly receptive now. The young Iaconian was surer by the klik that something major has happened that caused the warlord to change so fast, so completely. Megatron as much as said that such was the case, only refused to elaborate on it so far. He was open with the overall situation, that Kaon had no need of Iacon any more militarily, so his Sire's cooperation – such as it was - was not needed either. So whatever the reason was it probably originated within Kaon, from his Nobles… or personally from him.

"It is never late to… change." – he still didn't dare to use any strong words, anything that could be perceived as criticism. Megatron apparently had a reason to behave differently than before, but as long as he didn't know that reason, he didn't dare to trust him fully. Two vorns was a pretty harsh lesson in that. After all, had he not trusted the warlord in their bonding… and look at how well that had succeeded? He still hasn't opened up their bond and Optronix was deeply afraid of that too.

"I fully intend to avoid the previous mistakes, Optronix, I can promise you that." – Megatron thought that for one sitting they covered quite enough dangerous grounds and tried to change the topic into something lighter. – "I saw that you read about Kaon. Is there anything I can elaborate on, something that datapad didn't cover?"

Optronix weighed carefully what he wanted to ask and where it could lead to, but in the end he decided that it was necessary for him to know more about this topic.

"Are you frequently… challenged by your nobles? It seems such a strange custom to me."

Megatron looked almost affronted by the question and Optronix suddenly doubted that it was such a good idea to ask. But then he couldn't avoid questions forever, especially as it was the warlord telling me to ask them…

"I was called out a few times when I came to power." – he said gruffly after a charged breem of silence. –"These orns no mech would dare to challenge me. Only a weak ruler or one newly in power would be."

His answer, and more than that his tone of voice implied that it was quite insulting to ask such a thing and Optronix was embarrassed at angering him with his first question. But how should he have known…?

"I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean it that way." – he ducked his helm, hoping that he didn't blow all his chances so soon. – "I thought… I mean… I didn't know how this thing works…"

"I know." – Megatron looked like he was hard put to swallow back his first reaction, but he managed it. – "I proved myself already, so it's unlikely that anyone would dare to call me out. You would be challenged because you look physically weaker and smaller."

"I can fight, you know." – ohh, how he wanted to tell this to him… Optronix didn't even realize how much. He knew that this was probably the only thing about him that Megatron would actually appreciate, but he didn't know why he craved so much for that little glint of pleasant surprise in those red optics. – "Probably not as much as your mechs, but in Iacon, I could hold out in a fight with almost every one of the palace guards."

"I didn't know that…" – Optronix felt the red gaze slid over his frame and felt that deep dread tremble his insides again, old hurts threatening to flood his processor. He tried pushing them back into his memory banks, so as not to show it just right now that they were talking about his worth and abilities. He'd have to be strong or at least outwardly so to be taken seriously.

"I tried to tell."

"But I didn't listen… it was my fault, Optronix, I know. I am listening now." – Megatron sighed a deep ex-vent. This making up was hard work. But he plunged on valiantly. – "I will be interested to see your level of training and arrange to continue it."

The happy flash of those blue optics rewarded him well for the hard work though. As much as he hated to admit his own terrible judgment earlier, Optronix was proving to be quite the opposite of what he'd assumed the smaller mech to be. Of course he can't help being smaller, but there were techniques to counter that disadvantage.

"I'll be glad to show." – ohh, he knew that any Kaonites would probably laugh at his abilities, but still it would be worth to have a physical exercise after being so inactive for vorns. He lifted his last cube towards Megatron and they drained theirs in a silence that was the least awkward so far between them. Still, Megatron couldn't miss his flinch when he stood and suddenly towered over the table. Fortunately the servant came in with a good timing to clear away the empty cubes and gave him a chance to escape without further damaging the headway he made so far.

"Good night cycle, Optronix..."


	7. Brothers

**Note**: Soundwave appears, but here, he can talk normally. Otherwise he's still the telepath, tape deck, etc, just the speech patterns are normal.

* * *

**Brothers**

When Megatron left, Optronix stayed at the table, pondering on what they talked about. The warlord seemed honest enough, despite of his avoidance of some topics. Of course he would be honest, the young mech told himself – Kaonites were famous for many bad things but they were said to be honest to the point of rudeness almost. When he thought back, he couldn't remember Megatron actually lying to him – he mostly didn't answer. So now that he actually promised to behave nicely and not harm him any more, he must be meaning it. Why, he still didn't know, but Megatron didn't lie about that either, only said that they'd discuss it later.

When he thought about it, Optronix could think of one reason – the warlord must have wanted an heir and seeing his declining health and mental state he must have come to a conclusion that it was next to impossible to spark under the circumstances. What made him realize it… that might have been the medic, Hook, who Optronix believed was somewhat sympathetic to his fate even earlier. Yes, this was something he found believable and also something Megatron wouldn't want to discuss with him before he got better. Which was good, because the thought of interfacing with him still awakened a deep, trembling dread in him.

Finding the reason he could live with, Optronix checked the new screen that he got; as he hoped it included not only an entertainment center but also communication line to the Cybernet. Moreover, he had a two way access, which meant that he could even talk to his family… with only slightly shaking servos and blinking the beginning of tears from his optics, he called up a comms program and searched for almost forgotten usernames. He found Jazz first and shaking with excitement and anxiousness, he placed the call.

The screen blossomed with the sigil of the Iaconian Ruling House, the system asking back in a text message for the caller's identity. Of course, Optronix thought, they couldn't know who he was yet from the unfamiliar calling ID. Typing in his name and title; Optronix Prime, Consort of Megatron, Warlord of Kaon, he waited a few kliks more, chewing anxiously on his lipplates, before the sigil abruptly disappeared and Jazz's incredulous faceplate filled the screen.

"OPTRONIX!"

Optronix laughed, truly laughed in happiness for the first time in vorns to see his brother's face again.

"Yes, Jazz, it's me! So good to see you again. I missed you so much…!"

"What happened ta you? You're like disappeared from the face of Cybertron after the bonding, we got absolutely no news of you!"

"Long story… and not all of it is nice." – Optronix didn't want to tell all the gruesome details, but he owed a little explanation for Jazz – "Megatron kept me locked up tighter than a prisoner."

"Why? What did the fragger…"

"Kaonite customs… he said that his nobles would challenge me and so it was for my protection. It took him this long to realize that I was bored out of my processor here."

Jazz took a good long look at him and - instinctly and logically - he knew just how far it was from being the full truth. But he was also a royal and Ultra Magnus's creation and knew that not all things can be said on an open comm line. Optronix looked all right, if a bit tired and insecure and those were alarming in itself. Besides, no challenge or custom could explain the communications being cut completely for so long.

"Are you… all right, Opty? – he asked in a worried voice, the starting happiness vying in his processor with the worry that started to rise.

"I…" – Optronix hesitated for a very telling klik – "I'll be now."

For such a short sentence it told a lot to Jazz, just as Optronix intended. He wouldn't lie, but he couldn't tell the complete truth either. He wasn't so naïve to think that the line he used was in any way private. No more than the chambers. It wasn't even personal, he supposed; probably all the palace connections were monitored by default.

"But don't worry about that. I can contact you now any time and we can talk. I have almost everything here and even promise for more."

"What about the… you know, your bond…?"

"It isn't what I expected… but everything just can't be perfect."

"You are not happy." – it wasn't a question any more and Jazz started to get an inkling of things unsaid which he didn't like at all.

"I… I'm hoping." – Optronix wasn't one to lie and it wasn't something he could prevaricate either. No, he most definitely wasn't happy, although he had a very small, cautious hope that he might be again… one orn. If everything turned out to be right. Which, considering his luck so far was a pretty long shot… – "Don't misunderstand me… I'm not complaining, but it is… complicated."

"Ah see. Anyway, it is good ta see you again, ta be able to talk. Ah hope it won't change ta the worse again…?"

"I hope that too. But tell me about Iacon, I miss everything there… how is everymech?"

"As well as expected… Sire is the same, the twins are the same, although they miss you too, and Sentinel is getting more like Sire every orn."

Jazz's grimace told volumes to Optronix – he knew just how Sentinel turned out. He was the only one among the brothers who actually agreed with their Sire in everything, taking after him completely. Optronix never liked Ultra Magnus's pompous heir and since he started to be interested in the state matters, he's been worried about Iacon under his eldest brother's rule. As much as Sentinel took after their Sire, he definitely lacked in strength of character even compared to his creator. It was one small factor why he agreed to the bonding – to get as far as he could from Sentinel's eventual rule. Because the blue mech expected all his younger brothers to defer to him – and their Sire never told him otherwise.

"Well, at least not much changed back at h…" – he couldn't say home, not anymore. Iacon wasn't his home and it'd never be again. – "…in Iacon. What about you? Is Sire still pressing you to bond?"

"He'll never stop Ah guess. But Ah won't bond on his say-so and he knows it. So he is huckstering Rodimus out these orns."

"What? Rodimus is not even of age!"

"That's never stopped him. Besides he'll be of age in a few vorns, so he is eligible to be betrothed if necessary."

"True enough… what is he planning with him?"

"Nothing definite yet. The kingdoms are pretty peaceful these orns and not much is going on since your… mate took over Tarn." – the scowl in Jazz's face was clearly visible when he said 'mate'. The more he listened to Optronix the more he wanted to grab Megatron and teach him manners, however impossible that was, what with the difference in their frame-sizes and strength. Even with Optronix not saying any details it was obvious that he wasn't happy and might have been even abused. But since his brother apparently didn't want to talk about it and implied that there was a change to the better, he kept his anger at check for his sake.

"He did? I wouldn't know… Megatron is not a talkative kind and it's been an orn only since I have access to the net."

"He did and now all his neighbors tremble in fear as ta who is next. There is even talk of an alliance against him if he attacks any more of them."

"I don't think he wants to start another war soon…"

"Why?"

"If my guess is right, he wants an heir."

"That means he hasn't got one yet." – Jazz looked at him thoughtfully. – "It is really not my place, but… what the Pit you two were doing for two vorns? No, don't answer that."

"It's a… long story."

"I bet. Look, Opty, I'd love to talk more but Sire's commed me to go ta him now. Gotta go."

"No problem, Jazz. We can talk now any time."

"Good luck Opty… something tells me you need it."

After the connection was cut, Optronix sat in front of the screen for a long while. As good as it felt to talk with Jazz, it stirred up his memories that so far he managed to keep deep inside his memory banks, safely away from his awareness. Now, it all ached on a level he didn't know was possible, almost like a real hurt, a physical injury. He'd meant to talk with some others too but right now it felt like a bad idea. He might not be able to keep his misery out of his faceplates and voice and that would be bad. The twins, if they felt him unhappy might just come over to try and teach Megatron manners. They might even take Jazz with them.

Standing up, he retreated onto the berth again, almost hiding amongst the pillows. He barely had enough resolve to pick up the datapad he choose earlier and hasn't finished yet. Reading has calmed him down somewhat and in a little while he was able to concentrate on what he was reading. Kaon was his future, Optronix knew. Memories were bittersweet at best as they were gone forever, never to come back.

-o-o-o-

"Do you think he believes me?"

"Not yet. He needs time. More time than you expect, Megatron. So far he associates you with painful things and it can't be changed in a few orns."

"I know that! I know he doesn't trust me yet! But does he believe that I mean what I promised?" – for Megatron it was important to know.

"I think he wants to. But it is not so easy either, as you think, brother." – Soundwave was serious. Megatron never understood emotions and Soundwave sometimes cursed their Sire's decision to raise him away from their carrier, to be trained the perfect warrior and ruler. The mech became an unbeatable fighter and a perfect leader for Kaon - but he managed to botch up his bond royally while he sent Soundwave away to play ambassador in Iacon. Shockwave, of course was no help to him in emotional matters, he was even worse in that area than Megatron.

"That, I know." – Megatron scowled as they watched Optronix talk with his brother. – "I guess I have to be satisfied with that."

Soundwave listed the power series of two in his processor before answering. It helped to keep his calm greatly. He wouldn't look into his brother's processor without him asking for it, but he rarely needed to use any telepathy. Megatron was like an unencrypted datapad with those he trusted in.

"Megatron, you should be glad that he responds at all. What you did so far was quite atrocious. I still can't believe that you actually forced him to interface… and injured him with it too."

Megatron actually looked sheepish for a change – an expression he would have never allowed to show had they got any company at all. But they were alone in Megatron's private rooms, Soundwave enjoying the familiar surroundings and the company of his brother; much as he despaired sometimes with Megatron's obtuseness in certain matters, he loved him as brother. Many mechs, many nobles tried to turn the brothers against each other to create a power struggle in the small kingdom, not enjoying the same illustrious history as the older city-states. Kaon was a real power only since the Cybertronium-mines brought wealth and Megatron's sire, Galvatron brought military success to the formerly poor and unimportant Kaonite mountains. But none of those mechs understood the loyalty that connected the brothers together.

"He seemed willing at first." – Megatron shrugged at last. As far as he was concerned, Optronix agreed to the bonding and the interface, so it wasn't like he was forcing him to do either. Breaking the seals hurt, especially with a size difference like they had. If the Iaconian didn't know it, then it was his problem, his lack of education. So he was quite surprised at the whack on his helm from the irate-looking Soundwave. – "Hey!"

"Brother mine, you are an aft."

Megatron growled. He wouldn't have taken it so peacefully from anymech else but Soundwave, but it was useless to be angry at him. Especially when he was right.

"_Willing_ is not nearly enough when it is a question of a bondmate – as you have learned Megatron."

"I can't court him now. I won't!"

"You can and you will. He is not an enemy army to be conquered." – Soundwave ignored Megatron murmuring _it would be easier if he was_ and continued. – "I don't expect you to simper and woo him and neither does Optronix, just… do you feel anything towards him?"

"I… I don't know. I suppose he is easy on the optics and not as bad as I first thought."

"That's not what I meant."

"I don't know. Maybe." – Megatron quickly hid the forming pout on his lip-plates. It was too close to showing weakness and that, he didn't allow even his brothers to see. – "I think I like his attitude."

"That's a step in the right direction… how does the bond feel?"

"Like always. Closed."

Soundwave stared at his brother completely shocked.

"You kept your bond locked down all the time?"

"Yes. It was disturbing. I can't have distractions in a battle."

Megatron stared back at his brother defiantly, sure that he had a reason for it so it was all right. Only… Soundwave looked disapproving of it and the warlord's conviction had trembled suddenly.

"Megatron, bondmates can function with an open bond all the time. It can be closed for short times, but not kept that way always!"

"Why not? It is slagging annoying to feel somemech else's feelings. Especially his…"

"Megatron, you caused those feelings that you don't want to feel. You'd deserve to feel them all."

"I'm not you, Brother! You dealt with others' thoughts and emotions all your function."

"But that is the bond for… to learn it. Not to isolate yourself from it!"

"Why?"

"Because once you learn to handle emotions, they can be helpful. A bondmate can support you, care for you, love you…"

"I don't slagging need support or care from an Iaconian!" – Megatron's exasperation came out in a roar, rarely if ever directed to Soundwave. – "I need an heir!"

"That's the other half of the problem. With a closed bond, with your attitude towards him, you can't merge sparks fully. Without a full merge, it is next to impossible to spark. This is why it took two vorns… a healthy, young mech with a full merge can spark almost at once."

Megatron stared back to him, shocked wordless and unable to even feel his earlier anger. So not only he caused the termination of the newspark, but even his interfaces were… pretty much useless? Soundwave looked at him unsympathetic, expecting him to realize the true extent of his idiocy.

"I… but… I can't open the bond."

"Why?"

"Because…" – Megatron paused. He kept it closed because he thought that he hated the Iaconian. But at their last meeting and talk, he promised to be more… open. Not that he meant the bond, but eventually, he would have to do that too. For now, he settled for a weak excuse… – "Because he'd know about the sparkling then."

Soundwave looked at him strangely.

"You truly don't know how bonds work." – he didn't even ask it, the fragger.

"Tell me then!" – it came out just shy of a shout. Fortunately Soundwave wouldn't be insulted by his tone.

"Bonds don't just have an 'open' and a 'closed' state. They can be opened in increments, slowly, to get used to each other. Also you, as the stronger, dominant mate can direct what the other sees, learns and not just let him see all your memory banks."

"That's… good to know."

"But I don't suggest throwing it open right now, after being a complete aft about it. Talk to him and tell it. Tell him what you told me now. Try to open it up together and slowly."

Megatron glowered at his brother darkly and Soundwave felt a real temptation to throw his arms into the air and storm out – throw a tantrum more like Megatron himself than his generally calm and collected self. And how much Frenzy would love to see _that_!

"No, brother mine it is NOT a weakness to get to know your mate and discover things together!"

"I KNOW!" – Megatron roared back, and continued on a slightly lower volume. – "But in a way, it is… isn't it?"

"No, it isn't. It can be a strength. I do not imply that you _need_ his support, but he can still give you some. Why do you insist on leaving him out of your life? Why should he trust you if you don't intend to be honest?"

"I…" – Megatron was balking. Soundwave was right, he promised some things to Optronix which he didn't intend to keep… and it was wrong. It wasn't him to lie and deceive mechs, so why now? – "I was going to… just later."

"Megatron… you said you want to fix the mess you'd made. Go then and solve it. Don't hide behind excuses. Yes, it will be hard and you must act in a way that you unfamiliar with. But without meaning it, it will be impossible."

Megatron's answer was no more than a tired grunt but Soundwave knew that what he said has _finally!_ gone through his thick helm. Had it not he'd be still shouting after all.

-o-o-o-

Optronix came online from his recharge to strange noises. It was like the palace was under siege with all the clanging and banging that sounded from fairly close to his rooms. He was off the berth quickly, but the window gave no indication for the source which had to be, now that he thought of it, inside the palace itself. He was reading late last orn, catching up on his favourite pastime after missing it for so long and it was quite far into the day cycle as well – since it has never been important, he hardly cared about the proper parts of the orn any more.

"Avara? What is this noise?" – he asked the servant coming in and bringing him the small cubes on a tray.

"I saw the rooms next to this one under construction, but I don't know the reason, my Lord."

"W-who is living there?" – he never worried about such things as he never heard any noise from nearby living quarters, but suddenly a strange nervousness started up in him.

"No mech, as far as I saw." – Avara shrugged a bit as he was tidying up the strewn datapads on the side table – "Maybe Lord Megatron is going to move in? But I truly don't know." – he added, seeing the tiny trembling in the young mech's frame.

Optronix nodded to him for an answer, not knowing what to think about that. Much as he wanted to grab the opportunity and make Megatron friendlier, he couldn't help but feel dread whenever he was mentioned, even casually. He hoped that in time it would get better, but so far not much has changed – all that stood between the horrible past and any kind of hope he held was the warlord's promise. He could do nothing else but trust him… but that trust was still tenuous, tentative and very fragile.

Optronix has just come out of the wash racks, refreshed and relaxed when Megatron came in. They both froze at their respective doorways, nervousness quickly replacing Optronix's relaxed mood and the warlord's determination. Avara, sensing the rising tensions, offered them both energon goodies and a tray of cubes to choose from, unobtrusively herding them towards the sitting area of the main room. He didn't expect them to sit close, but the same room was an achievement. Chattering inconsequentials while their first bout of anxiety passed, he left the room as soon as he saw Lord Megatron glowering at him.

"W-what…"

"Optronix…"

They started to speak at the same time, stopping abruptly after the first words. A ghost of a smile drew the corner of Optronix's mouthplates upwards at the awkwardness of the situation and he gestured to Megatron to continue.

"Yes. Umm. I wanted to… I mean I'd like to…" – _slag, this was harder than fighting_, he thought fleetingly – "… talk about our bond."

A sharp pain flared up in Optronix's spark, but he hid it.

"Y-you want to… open it…?" – he asked with only a slight trembling – "I…"

Megatron looked uncomfortable, but apologetic. Shifting where he sat, he barely glanced at the younger mech opposite to him, on a separate seat.

"I seem to have had misconceptions about a spark bond." – he looked away from the young Iaconian – "I never had the reason to learn about them, as I never wanted to bond. So…"

"You don't know how it works?" – Optronix was shocked so much it even replaced his fear. It explained much – not that it excused some things but slowly he saw that the warlord wasn't as bad as he thought, that most of his actions stemmed from simply not knowing.

"Well… My brother, Soundwave – whom you'll meet later by the way – enlightened me that it is not like I'd thought."

"In what way? We've been all – I mean my brothers and I – taught about bonding." – he lifted a brow plate and continued – "Of course we all knew that we would be bonded, to secure and help Iacon's future."

"I was taught about war, fighting and such matters. Spark bonds and bonding in general, definitely weren't in my curriculum." – Megatron answered gruffly.

"It is understandable, my Lord…" – Optronix tried to make it easier for him from simple self-interest; an angry Megatron was something he feared, so diverting his anger was a necessary tactic.

"You can call me on my designation, you know?"

"Y-yes… of course…" – Optronix tried to avoid that so far, as it sounded far too direct and familial – "M-megatron…"

"I want to open this bond between us, but… I don't want to cause you distress. Or force you something you don't want to."

"I had always hoped that it would make you… closer, more understanding of me…" – Optronix answered quietly. He wouldn't tell his sparkache at the disinterest that the cold, closed bond meant, but if he truly didn't know how it worked…

"Does it mean that you'd be, you know amenable to try it?"

"What, a merge?" – he looked alarmed, ready to bolt.

"No! Just, you know, the bond. To see what it feels like." – Megatron felt rather stupid at the moment, because he didn't know why Optronix associated to a merge.

"B-but… it's up to you… it is open at my side." – Optronix glanced bemused at him, not quite believing that he was this ignorant on how bonds worked.

Megatron frowned at that, because he didn't like to feel inscient about anything. He also didn't feel like delving into another mech's being or emotions, however small degree… but he promised it to Soundwave to try, owed it to his… bondmate and so he had to try. Grabbing another cube from the table, this time a potent Backfire to cover his hesitancy he noticed Optronix also fortifying himself with one.

"I guess… I guess we are both nervous about it." – he grumbled, giving up pretending otherwise. – "I have no wish to hurt you or…"

"Just open the link, please…"

He saw Optronix scuttling a bit closer on the recliner, slightly trembling, but his exotic, blue optics determined and expectant. He realized that in this area, the young Iaconian was probably more knowledgeable than him – and if he wanted the bond after everything, then it could not be that bad. Megatron turned his attention inward and examined the link in his spark that so far ignored completely, probing and hesitantly prodding the barely there connection.

Now, that he paid attention to it, he felt a slight, insistent nudge in it – and looking up, into those blue optics, he knew that it was Optronix, sort of… knocking on that particular door. He had no idea how to open it though. Then, as he thought about it, he'd closed the bond by will, simply imagining it that way, so the opposite action should be no different. Ex-venting heavily, his denta grinding in the effort, he formed a mental image of a door cracking open slightly, casting light rays into a dark room.

Slowly, he became aware of sensations that sure weren't his own trickling through the link. They felt… lighter somehow, more open and optimistic, young and curious… even though they had a nervous quality in them as well. They almost… tickled, Megatron supposed that was how he could express it, not bad, not inimical, but still strange. He wasn't at all used to feel somemech else's emotions and it made him wish to close that symbolical door. But as the connection narrowed down and the flow of emotions dried up, lastly he felt a sorrow so deep that it hit his fuel tank like a ton of weigh.

It flickered in Optronix's optics too, in the trembling of those full dermas, and it made him feel ashamed for closing the door on him so soon, just because it felt strange to him. Pulling his processor together, he willed the connection to open again, this time more ready for the feel of another in his spark. Megatron cautiously opened the bond up again, felt the joy for doing so and tasted the alien emotions that his mate sent him, the curious, trusting and honest interest, the wish to be accepted, tinged with fear and dread, but brave enough to reach out to him.

The young Iaconian was even more exotic inside than he looked outwardly – and Megatron couldn't deny this time that both drew him, enticed and interested him greatly. He felt his fans start up as his frame heated and a tiny thread of lust leaked back to his mate. The effect was immediate – the blind terror that flamed up and caused the wide-opticked, gasping youngster to draw away in the bond and in reality too… Megatron flinched as his arousal died down in shame and made an aborted move to caress the shaking red shoulder. He caused Optronix to react this way to the subject and it was just now that he actually felt how deep, how strong this reaction was.

"I promised not to hurt you that way again, Optronix. I won't."

The bond wasn't open enough for articulated thoughts, so he spoke up, but at the same time tried to send regret and assurance to Optronix through it. He was actually glad to see the jerky nod from him that was the only answer. The terror slowly abated as the smaller mech visibly struggled to put it aside and replace it with more positive feelings, stilling his trembling and regulate his vents.

"I do consider you beautiful though." – _there, it was a compliment, he should love it_, Megatron thought, carefully shielded from his mate – "I hope that you don't find me… hideous. We Kaonites are very different from what you are used to."

"N-no! I've always thought you… attractive. Strong, able and… intimidating."

A tiny thread of marvel and envy came through the bond and Megatron realized that this way, he could be sure of the truth of what was being said. It was one advantage of the bond, he admitted to himself, while preening slightly at the admiration that he could be sure was not just a façade, not just to garner his favor, like outsiders often acted around him. He sent back an honest, but carefully not lustful acceptance to Optronix and was rewarded by those exotic blue optics flickering in a surprised happiness.

They were actually connecting through the bond, discovering each other cautiously and Megatron found that he didn't mind it as well as he'd expected it earlier. It was certainly strange to feel another mech's emotions, but tolerable, because Optronix interested him and he felt the other mech's similar curiosity too. After a few breems, he even found that it was harder to keep the connection to its present, narrow way and not throw the bond fully open. He guessed that neither of them was ready for that; besides their present connection was in itself a big enough step forward.

Megatron shifted on the seat, careful not to close the slight distance between himself and his mate. He was surprised but satisfied that the smaller mech drew closer and closer to him during their exploring of the bond but knew for a fact that he should not do the same; that one mistake in the bond told him clearly how Optronix would react to any move on him. But he was close enough that their fields touched, exchanging flickers of emotions this way too, beside the bond.

They sat there for nearly a joor; Megatron a bit stiff and overly careful, while Optronix more open and outgoing, testing himself just as he did with the warlord. That neither of them failed that testing was nearly a miracle and both of them knew, felt it too. Too much has happened for their relationship to be easy, too many mines were buried on that particular minefield.

After Megatron – somewhat reluctantly – left, Optronix realized that he completely forgotten to ask about the constructions nearby. Avara came in and they chatted easily, the servant telling him about the palace, the nobles, even Megatron's brothers, whom Optronix knew only from the bonding ceremony, but would meet as soon as he was ready, the warlord told him. He wasn't looking forward to that, expecting them to be similar to Megatron, just without his newfound compassion.


	8. Courting

**Courting**

_Note: Dreadnought is based mainly on Galvatron._

_Note2: the name of the weapon mentioned in the second part, the bat'leth, is used from Star Trek, so that the readers can visualize the blade. It is something a Kaonite would use, I guess._

* * *

Optronix checked his appearance the last time in the mirror, Avara quietly and dutifully rubbing every single, mostly imagined spots from the mirror finish of his plating. He was nervous, even more so than the times Megatron visited him lately – after a few such meetings the warlord became less of a terror for him and their conversations slowly smoothed out. Megatron wasn't the most talkative of mechs Optronix knew, but he did have a fierce pride in the city-state he ruled and could be coaxed to talk about it with little problem.

But this time… this time it was going to be different. Soundwave, Megatron's brother was going to come with him and Optronix didn't know the mech at all. Dimly he remembered a large, silent, blue mech from the bonding party and Megatron did say that he was his ambassador and main diplomatic advisor, but it all said nothing about the mech himself. He only remembered that neither of Megatron's brothers approved of his bonding with the warlord and all indicated that it was his person that they had issues with.

Not very promising signs and Optronix wanted to make a better impression now, reinforced with some knowledge and tempered with his experiences. The problem was that he still wasn't, couldn't be sure of Megatron and his newfound favorable attitude. He was still alone in a sense that he couldn't count on him for support that a bondmate should give. Their meeting went long ways towards learning each other through the bond but long-time habits were hard to overcome.

Pronouncing himself ready outwardly, Optronix quieted his doubts, tucked away the fears and tried to look as strong and capable as a bondmate to the Kaon Warlord should be. He cast one last glance into the mirror, wiped the last, lingering doubt from his optics and felt ready to meet his visitors. He barely stepped into the sitting room when he saw Megatron entering and behind him the dark blue mech that had to be Soundwave. Optronix drew himself up straight and proud, displaying all the presence he could muster with his comparatively smaller size.

"Optronix." – Megatron greeted him with a single, terse word, as usual and by this time the young mech knew that he wasn't angry with him or frustrated in general as he'd thought for long – just himself.

"Lord Megatron." – he nodded back, giving him the appropriate answer with his title which in the presence of another was required, while carefully keeping a neutral, self-confident façade.

Soundwave stepped around his brother and greeted Optronix in a far more friendly fashion, holding out one servo with palm up and the particular flick of the wrist joint in the Iaconian way of greeting and coming far closer than Kaonites usually did. Even his frame language wasn't threatening, despite of still being larger than the younger mech.

"Lord Optronix, I am honoured to meet you."

"Ohh… he's my brother, Soundwave."

Megatron caught up a little too late, introducing him and Optronix saw the small scowl in his faceplates at that. But he made no sign to show that he noticed it, instead answered to the greeting with the appropriate gesture and words, hiding his surprise and a tiny tinge of homesickness at the familiar moves.

"Lord Soundwave, I am the one honored by your visit and kind words."

"Soundwave is my ambassador and knows far more about Iacon that I ever cared to learn." – Megatron motioned them towards the table, having learned that taking energon together was a good way to diffuse potentially tense moments. They sat around the table and Avara quietly offered the platter around with several kinds of energon in small, ornate cubes and some treats as well. After taking their selection, the servant mech silently withdrew until called, to let the Lords talk freely.

"What my brother meant is that I lived in Iacon for the past few groons and learned its customs somewhat." – Soundwave inserted smoothly – "I also have several messages and some objects that your family and friends sent to you."

Neither of them missed the sudden, unbelieving but hopeful flash in the blue optics and the perking up of the small antennae. Happiness flooded his system commingled with a rush of nostalgia, creating a bittersweet mix of emotions that washed over his expressive face. It was just a klik and Optronix was visibly fighting to hide his reaction and replace it with a carefully deferential one, looking at Megatron.

"If my Lord allows…?" – the question was expected, even though he knew that Soundwave wouldn't even have mentioned the matter had he not cleared it with Megatron first. The flash of approval in those red optics told him that he acted appropriately. Megatron nodded, satisfied and even a bit proud of his… bondmate; an emotion surprising him greatly. He sat back, letting his brother handle the conversation, while he was observing the young Iaconian in this new situation.

"Of course. You may accept any gifts from your former family."

"Thank you, my Lord."

Optronix still knew that he'd have to wait for the packets until the end of the dinner, but it was a hurdle that he took successfully. Every such test was a step toward being accepted by the picky Kaonites who, according to the datapads and the hints Megatron dropped, hardly ever deigned to consider foreigners as capable to live up to their way of life. But at least he now had a chance… however slim and uncertain it still looked.

"Iacon is certainly quite different from Kaon. I am not surprised that misunderstandings… even mistakes were made at first." – Soundwave continued smoothly – "Besides my brother was raised to rule Kaon and his education sadly lacked the parts that for example I was trained in. Our creator raised us all for a specific role, which in hindsight might have been a mistake."

Megatron glowered darkly at his brother but it seemingly didn't disturb the blue mech at all. Nodding his helm to the side slightly, he nearly smiled before reworking his emotionless façade. Optronix watched the exchange curiously, sure that he was missing something there, but he didn't know what.

"I understand it now, Lord Soundwave." – he answered at last – "Now that I know our differences, I am fully intending to remove them from the path of our common future."

"It is my intention as well…"

"We can't change being Kaonites or dissolve customs that existed for megavorns, but we do understand now the differences and can help you to adjust… until you can feel at home here."

Optronix privately doubted that last statement would ever come true, or at least didn't attach much hope to it, but he was willing to try to achieve it. Shifting slightly on his seat, he nevertheless answered smoothly, not betraying his private thoughts.

"I understand that by coming here and becoming part of the Kaon ruling clan, it is me who has to change." – that was what he'd wanted from the very start, after all – "Which I will endeavor to do so to the best of my abilities."

"The limitation on your lifestyle will be lifted slowly, as we can ensure your safety. No harm will come to you again, that I can promise. Even my brother understood the wrongs of his ways by now."

"I…" – Optronix suddenly felt his intakes dry and swallowed convulsively – "I'd like some kind of a proof for that first…"

"I gave you my word, Optronix." – Megatron just refrained from growling.

"I understand your uncertainty, but we Kaonites would never lie in such matter – "Soundwave was far more diplomatic than his brother – "Megatron promised that to you and I pledge so too. We will not allow you to come to harm from others and neither from… ourselves."

The atmosphere in the room tensed ever so slightly, the three mechs servos tightening on their cubes. There was nothing more to be said in the matter, but was it enough, the Kaonites wondered. Energon was consumed in terse silence, swift glances jumped from mechs to neutral targets and back, treats were offered like peace-gifts and accepted likewise. The charged silence was broken by Megatron, who got bored by nothing happening and stood suddenly, offering an arm to the surprised Optronix.

"Perhaps you are curious as to the changes next room? They do involve you after all."

"Of course!"

The anteroom now had a new door opening to the newly created space by his quarters. Optronix let Megatron lead them there, his arm strong and steady under his one. Optronix firmed up his cables and didn't let his arm tremble, not even slightly at the closeness, at the touching. They walked the few steps till the door in silence, the young mech feeling the measuring stare of Soundwave too on his back plates. It was possibly the longest lasting five steps he ever took.

Once the door opened, he forgot the tenseness though, as the view beyond it was completely unexpected. It wasn't living quarters after all, so his secret fear that Megatron moved in closer were gone. The large open space was furbished for physical exercises, wrestling or sparring; with uncountable weapons decorating the walls or positioned on stands. Optronix didn't even recognize half of them from his earlier training. The weapons weren't just decorative either; they were visibly well-used, telltale scratches on black handles and discolorations on the embossed designs of the sheaths gave that away. But they were all superb quality, well maintained and in perfect condition.

"Your weapons…" – he whispered, glancing at Megatron for confirmation. At the nod he marveled inwardly. His bondmate used more weapons – and used them a lot by the look of it – than he even knew the name of. The oft-read and heard phrase that Kaonites were warriors and lived for war and fighting suddenly gained a new depth. And Megatron was their ruler, by definition the best of them.

"We don't use our weapons like Iaconians, to pompously decorate walls and let them go blunt in disuse. We use them in war."

"They are… amazing." – he didn't even have to exaggerate. The weapons were all the finest quality metals known on Cybertron, their finish practical but flamboyant at the same time with all the black reliefs and the red gems that flashed from their shaded niches like so many watchful optics. The designs incorporated the Kaonite motifs, Megatron's own personal sigil, the sharp, pointed face of Unicron and interestingly many wings of different designs, from turbohawks till Seeker ones.

Optronix slid a careful digit along one particularly beautiful, long, slightly curved hilt of a sword, marveling at the unique texture of it…

"That's organic." – Megatron told behind him and Optronix completely forgot to flinch in fright at the surprising fact. Organic materials were rarer than living crystals and more expensive too. – "It's called wood, a kind of a growing, crystal-like structure. It makes superb hilts and handles but one must get used to its texture – it is quite different from metals."

"It is amazing…"

Optronix nearly burned with the yearning to pick up the beautiful sword and try swinging it, no matter that it was designed for a bigger grip and a larger mech than he – but _it was_ _Megatron's_, his processor whispered, he mustn't do it, Kaonites had a special relationship with their weapons, as the saying went they if it were possible they'd bond with them instead of their mates… no, he really shouldn't _want_ so strongly to try it… he might have a chance in time, if only he could be patient.

Especially as it was impossible that this place was here a few orns ago, Optronix glanced around for confirmation. It was brand new and only the weapons had the signs of wear on them, not the furniture, the mats, the walls… the place was built here anew, connected to his quarters and it meant that it was for him as well. He could use it… might use it alone too.

"Yes, you may train here and we might spar, once I saw your level of expertise with the weapons available." – Megatron still stood close to him but for once Optronix didn't mind it. He was having a joyful meltdown, or near so. Inwardly of course. Sparring with Megatron? Pit, even if he was 'killed' at every bout, it would be worth it. It didn't awaken that fear in him that other kinds of closeness still did occasionally.

"I must admit that I don't even recognize some of these instruments." – He said once he regained his voice – "But I am eager to learn them all… perfect them all I mean."

"Good." – the predatory smile on Megatron's lipplates wasn't frightening for once, because it wasn't aimed at him. The warlord was in a situation that was natural to him, with an eager and appropriately awed mech hanging on his words… – "I will teach you all."

They spent the next few joors in there, going over each weapon that Optronix pointed out as unknown to him, Megatron showing him their strengths, weaknesses and basic use, while enjoying the surprisingly adequate, pertinent questions that showed the younger mech's general weapons' knowledge and eagerness to learn. It all went far better than any of them would have thought and they were nearly sorry to have to part.

"In a few orns we'll be sparring, Optronix." – Megatron promised before leaving, glad that he found a common ground for them that didn't involve the smaller mechs shy away from him continuously. Soundwave lingered a few kliks more to pass over the gifts and even after, he turned back to Optronix from the doorway.

"You know, in Kaon it is considered courting when a mech gifts weapons or spars with the one they desire even if he is weaker."

"I have read about it, yes. It is a strange… but I guess it is fitting."

"He is trying." – Soundwave's voice was suddenly somber – "He behaved atrociously and is still lacking a lot in the empathy department, but he definitely wants to make this bond work now."

"I can see that… but I don't understand the reason for the sudden change. You won't tell it either… I guess."

"Trust me Optronix, it is better if you discover it at a later time, in a hopefully stronger relationship between the two of you. It wouldn't do any good to reveal it now."

"I see. You still don't consider me strong enough to know it then."

"No. I don't. You are very young yet. But you will learn." – and with that the blue mech was outside the door, leaving the bemused Optronix behind. Kaonites certainly didn't beat around the bush – they either told you what they wanted or thought bluntly or not at all. Hints and roundabout ways were not for them.

All in all, a successful orn, he thought, despite of the questions still nagging him unanswered. Eagerly, he tore the packet open and half laughed, half cried seeing its contents… Jazz, it must have been Jazz, who sent all his things that he had to leave behind when he was brought here. Datapads, crystal shards and small stones, each with an attached memory, his favourite painting by Sunstreaker that Sentinel has always wanted to appropriate from him but never managed it, the small statue that Jazz carved for him from a particularly beautiful, unique red-blue crystal… Optronix happily surrounded himself with the mementos, feeling his mood perfect for once, probably the first time since he got here. The orn was an unmitigated success.

-o-o-o-

He hoped that the next meeting would be similarly pleasant, or at least bearable with another of Megatron's brother coming to pay him a visit. A few orns have gone before it happened, with Megatron coming and showing his weapons, teaching him… but putting off sparring reluctantly. Dreadnought… unfortunately even the mech's name made him uneasy as it was; Optronix remembered the huge, grey and dark purple mech glowering at him angrily during the bonding ceremony. This time he would need all his wits not to show any '_weakling'_ reaction, no matter how provoked.

Optronix sighed as he checked the time yet again. Nearly there… he moved out, into the living room and heard their steps approaching, the outer door open and… he felt like a glitchmouse suddenly, completely dwarfed by the two huge mechs. Megatron, he was somewhat used to by this time and the mech, he realized did make an effort to appear nonthreatening, stayed farther from him, moved slower and never touched him without first signalling it in some way.

In short, he did everything that his brother deliberately eschewed. Optronix steeled his resolve and refused to step back when Dreadnought purposely moved into the room fast and towered over him from far too close for comfort. The mech was even bigger than Megatron, his shocked processor whispered him dazedly and bristling even without any weapons in sight. The low growl that seemed to originate somewhere at the bottom of his pedes nearly shook the Iaconian's lighter plating from up close.

"L-lord Dreadnought…" – he hoped that his voice was steady enough and the slight stammer overlooked.

"Easy, Dread…" – Megatron's voice was tinged with some growl on his own, but his was directed to his brother along with the flash of the red optics.

It made the purple mech back off a little bit and Optronix ex-vented a tiny sigh of relief and escaped to the relative safety of the table kept between them. He carefully kept his expression strong and unyielding, no matter the nearly jelly-like inner trembling in his tanks.

"_Lord_ Optronix." – the huge mech grated out with an almost sneer and a mocking, small bow – "What an _honour_ to our House to see such a _thing_ like yourself here…"

The derisive insult wasn't even hidden and Optronix froze for a nanoklik. This mech will never be on his side, he felt instinctly and the thought gave him a new strength, a strange, defiant resolve. Diplomacy or even compliance will never win him over like with Soundwave. But he wasn't going to allow to be scorned so in front of his bondmate. He felt the bond open slightly and strong support, encouragement flow across it. His optics widened momentarily before Optronix pulled himself up fully, flared his plating aggressively and answered in a strong, steady, but ice-cold voice.

"My Lord, the honour is mine to be received with such kindness that you just displayed."

Dreadnought stared back at him with heavy brow-plates lifted for nearly a breem before reacting with his fists tightening at his side. Optronix peripherally noticed the slight smirk on Megatron's lipplates and felt the approval flow through the bond. It calmed him and the inner trembling eased off somewhat. The mech could still squash him with a blow… but neither would he do it, nor would Megatron allow it. He's survived round one.

"Admit it Dread… that was rude even for you." – Megatron appeared superficially amused but he flashed yet another warning glance to his brother.

"My… apologies." – he grated it out with fangs clenched together and red optics flaring naked fire at Optronix. Great, the Iaconian thought, now he gained an outright enemy.

"Let's sit and calm down a bit." – Optronix suggested in that still cold, calculated voice. Slag if he was going to show anything but basic courtesy to such a rude mech. – "So we could speak civilly at least."

That earned him a raised upper lipplate, showing off deadly fangs again but he sat at the table, opposite to Optronix, who wasn't going to complain about the arrangement. Megatron deliberately pushed a chair closer to his side and the young mech was immensely glad, not to mention thankful for the support visibly and within the bond. It was unexpected but nearly a lifeline right then.

"I heard that my Lord is the strongest general in the Kaonite army." – Optronix tried to sound praising as he remembered on of the topics he'd wanted to speak about – "I found it curious how you and our brothers divided the rule of Kaon among yourselves. It is an envy of many city-states, I'm told."

"It is indeed. Our Creator ruled alone and found that he could not master all fields that was required, so he'd decided to divide it among us, brothers. It worked out perfectly, as we are the best in our respective fields and together we are unbeatable." - Megatron explained it. – "A perfect city-state needs not only a ruler, a military leader but diplomacy and science as well."

"I can see it… Kaon's might is nearly unmatched on Cybertron." – Optronix deduced from Dreadnought's proud aggression and posturing stance that he was the so-called muscle of the outfit. Not very bright, probably that's why he didn't become the warlord even though he was the eldest. Soundwave was diplomacy that much he already knew, so the fourth brother must be the scientist.

A ruling Quaterne then, Optronix mused for a klik. Unheard of, but apparently working seamlessly. If the Seekers of Vos made it work with three, then why not four? It has always been just the question of loyalty amongst the leaders that made most kingdoms ruled by only one king; what the Seekers solved with their Trine bonds, the Kaonites did with the brother-bonds.

"It is. And with Iacon standing behind us, we can and will conquer all else."

A simple statement, said so confidently and ordinarily that it nearly belied its content. But Megatron had results backing up his confidence and the mechs who could make it all work. Even the prospect of it made Optronix feel inadequate. No surprise that the warlord's brothers considered him unfit for being the possible carrier of his heirs… who might one day rule Cybertron.

"I-I'm sure… if anymech could it is you, my Lords."

"Will we be able to do it with having some excess baggage that we will have to _defend_ and _pamper_ is questionable" – Dreadnought chose this klik to interject another round of insults. Apparently the praise did nothing to assuage his contempt.

"I can defend myself, Lord Dreadnought… and I don't require any pampering."

"Words, words, words… Iaconians seem to believe that words are always enough to save you. Anyone points a bat'leth at you and you quake in your armor."

Megatron laughed short and dangerously – "I, too doubt that, brother."

"So he swayed you too with his oily words!"

"Careful, Dread…"

"Just look at him! He couldn't even lift one! A weakling with smooth words and enticing wiles!"

"I'm willing to put my words to the test." – Optronix was done with letting the mech insult him. His words caused a ringing silence in the room, Dreadnought gaping with surprise, while Megatron scowling unhappily, the bond conveying worry for him. But he spoke up first before his brother could recover.

"I can't allow you to spar with my brother." – he paused, weighing his next words carefully – "But he may watch as we do."

"It is acceptable." – inwardly Optronix felt elation, especially considering what Soundwave said last time. He would lose the match for sure, but even so, he could show off his skills.

"Right now?" – Dreadnought appeared gloating once he recovered from his surprise, like he was sure that Optronix would fail spectacularly in the sparring ring.

"Why not?" – Optronix smiled slightly, done with fear for now, his own daring and Megatron's continued support making him sure that what he was doing was right and proper… and that they were putting Dreadnought's derisive hatred to a rest soon.

They all stood and moved into the training room, where Megatron turned to his brother again, this time his smirk clearly visible.

"I haven't intended to do it yet, but… you know brother that bat'leths come in many sizes, right?"

He lifted a longish parcel from one of the side tables, ripped the covering off and presented the weapon to Optronix wordlessly. The bat'leth was crafted to his size and grip, its midnight black metal gleaming in the lights, the handles subtly decorated with red and blue, signifying it as Optronix's. The young mech stared at the beautiful weapon before realizing that it was for him… and gave a swift thanks to Primus that it was one of those he'd actually trained with before.

"Thank you my Lord… Megatron." – he whispered before he lifted the long, curved weapon from his bonded's larger servos.

It felt perfect, from the weight of it till the hilt's silky feel of wood, the organic material nearly caressing his metallic palm as it nestled into his grip. Optronix swung the blade experimentally, keeping a strong grip on the handles. Beginners with the bat'leth often underestimated the momentum of the comparatively heavy blade swung and let it fly disgracefully from their servos. The susurrating sound of the blade's points strengthened as he sped it up, whirling it around him in a defensive pattern, before slowing down and bringing the deadly weapon to a proper neutral position.

He looked up and was greeted by an immensely satisfied look from Megatron and a slightly wide-opticked look of disbelief from Dreadnought. Optronix preened slightly in their admiration, letting a true smile broke his countenance.

"It is a marvelous piece. Thank you, my Lord."

"You'll do fine with it." – Megatron answered proudly and appraisingly before lifting his own, larger, black and red coloured bat'leth form a stand – "We will do a real match to convince my brother there that you are indeed worthy. Prepare yourself, Optronix for I'll give you no advantages."

They moved to one of the sparring rings, facing each other from its two sides, bowing slightly in honoring the opponent. Megatron looked supremely dangerous with the weapon in his servos, red optics calculating as he was looked over and assessed for potential weak points. Optronix did the same with him, just as he was taught… only he couldn't find any weak, indeed just any slightly weaker point on his opponent.

Slag, but he moved fast for such a big mech… Optronix could hardly avoid the blade that nearly severed his ankle with a swift pirouette that moved him to Megatron's side and gave him an opportunity to try a counterattack. His bat'leth was deflected by the longer blade and Optronix twisted his to catch the inner point. He managed to snag it, but the position gave him no advantage as the weapon stood firm in Megatron's servo; against his greater strength Optronix couldn't move it by a single millimeter.

At least he couldn't swing it the other way, Optronix thought as he pushed them apart to have space. A few light exchanges had the weapons slid on each other's edges, points seeking out vulnerable gaps, attacks and defensive moves flowing into an undulating rhythm as they measured up the other's style. Optronix was using the darting, weaving style Jazz taught him to use against larger opponents, moving his bat'leth continuously, switching attack patterns often to stay unpredictable.

Megatron was obviously not going all out, but his greater experience - not to mention his strength and reach – started to come out soon and Optronix was hard put to retain his grip of his weapon as the attacks steadily grew in complexity and ferocity. His own movements became ragged as more and more often Megatron disrupted his planned moves and he had to compensate and stay defensive. Even that became haphazard soon as Megatron advanced to yet another level, clearly showing just how much he was holding back so far.

When the advancing bat'leth hit his right wrist joint with the blunt edge and the temporarily numb digits made him lose his grip, Optronix knew that it would be over in kliks. But he didn't give up, tried to twist out of reach, bringing up his weapon to deflect one-servoed. But it was too little and he felt the inexorable force of the entwined points tearing the other hilt too from his servo, leaving him defenseless.

The bat'leth clanged on the ground as it fell and Optronix's chest plates were hit with fortunately just the blunt edge of Megatron's weapon, the strong hit making him loose his balance and fall backwards. He hit the mat heavily, unable to roll away as Megatron was on him fast and pinned him down. The exhilaration of the fight was dissipating fast and panic starting to take its place, their position all too suggestive for his memories to stay in the background.

But before he could fully fall into panic, he felt the pinning weight disappear over him and a strong servo grasping his own, pulling him up. Optronix's vision cleared up and he vented fast, both to cool his heated frame and to calm his upset processor down. Megatron held him close for nearly a breem, but not so tightly as to be restrictive, rather offering his hold as support for his taxed, slightly trembling legs.

Optronix regained his equilibrium soon and found that surprisingly he didn't mind the closeness and the hold when it was offered and not forced. He glanced up to Megatron's slightly flushed face, his unfathomable optics… and he wasn't afraid any more. The pride and approval that came through the bond also made him confident again, ready to trust him by this time.

"You did well, Optronix." – he said in a low voice – "No matter what Dreadnought will say about you… there aren't many who can beat me in one-on-one combat. Well, aside from him."

"I know… I didn't expect to win. Just tried to." – Optronix gave him a surprisingly conniving smirk and was rewarded with an honest laugh from the larger mech.

"I concede that he knows how to swing a bat'leth…" – they heard Dreadnought's grumbling voice from the sidelines – "…doesn't mean he is capable, just that he is not a complete failure."

Megatron smirked at his grumbling brother but didn't answer. He was too busy to feel the beautiful Iaconian in his arms without the usual spikes of fear in his field. It gave him hope that they might still make this bond real. And he enjoyed it too.


	9. Dreams

**Dreams**

Optronix wandered into the training room, although he didn't expect Megatron for some time yet. They didn't exactly had a schedule and the Iaconian sometimes thought that the warlord wanted to stay with him all the time and only left him alone because he knew that it would be uncomfortable to both of them. He walked over the big room, his digits lightly touching the instruments of war displayed along the walls, sliding along dangerously gleaming, razor-sharp edges and bumping over inlaid gems on various hilts.

It fascinated Optronix, this utter preoccupation of the whole society with war and fighting. Kaon seemed to be the embodiment of a warrior spirit and Megatron the very spark of that particular mindset. True, he has seen very little of the whole city-state but he didn't think that what he's seen so far was just a show-case set for him alone; it wouldn't make any sense to try and impress a lone Iaconian locked up in the palace anyway. Jazz confirmed it to him too at their last conversation, saying that Kaonites were exactly like that; warlike, rough and disdaining any softer pastimes, their lives revolving around war and glory.

It was… or it should have been very foreign to Optronix, who was raised to be a mate for one of the more _civilized_ kingdoms, like Polyhex or Praxus, only fate deciding suddenly that he should be a game piece in the previously closed off and secretive kingdom of Kaon. It was a shock back then and it continued to be so even at this orn, even after he was hopefully past the hardest part. The hard glint of the weapons blinked back at him, their glares a bit disdaining, like the way Kaonites inevitably watched him, the soft-spoken, soft-mannered, soft in the spark Iaconian. They would do the same, Optronix knew if he was to walk out and around in the palace grounds, much more so in the streets of Kaon.

But he was yearning to walk those streets, to observe the Kaonites – his fellow mechs now - in their natural surroundings, how they lived, how they worked, how they… loved. He did the same in Iacon, against the direct orders of his creator and the guards set to keep him in the palace. He always had to see matters for real, as he was never satisfied with learning them second-servo, through others' viewpoints, prejudices, misconceptions. He wanted to see these warriors from up close, not only in a training room or a battlefield, but when they were whetting their weapons in their homes, teaching their creations the notions of honour and war…

"You seem pensive, Optronix."

The deep bass voice surprised him badly and Optronix whirled to face Megatron who was approaching him from behind. He tensed up as he found the warlord way too close and it only marginally calmed him down that he's backed off quickly after seeing his reaction.

"I was wondering about Kaon and its mechs." – he answered at last, settling at the topic that was hopefully _safe_ – "I'd love to see them… I understand that I can't but I wish it to come true still."

Megatron actually looked frustrated… no, it was helpless almost at that.

"Optronix… You can't. Not yet. I promised it to you, and it will happen… but later."

Optronix nodded sadly, but swallowed back the disappointment, arranging his features to a neutral expression. He moved closer, not quite to touching distance but close enough to signal his acceptance.

"I understand… I may not like it, but I get the reasoning."

"Until that time, I can tell you everything you wish to hear about. I'm sure you have plenty of questions… you seem to be eager to understand us, even if you can't accept our way of life."

"But I'd like to! I mean become a warrior like you… it is not against my natural instincts. True, I'd like to understand how Kaon works, but it isn't just a mental exercise… Kaon is my home now."

Pride filled Megatron hearing that utterance, delivered in a serious tone. Dreadnought should have heard it, he thought, maybe it would lighten his enmity a bit.

"Come then, Optronix… I have a little surprise for you too."

The young mech looked up at him interested and Megatron couldn't help but be glad that he trusted him enough not to be afraid of a surprise. It surely was a step forward!

In the sitting room doorway, he gestured Optronix forward and the smaller mech noticed the change immediately. His rooms were at this time by no means bare, but there were still plenty of free spaces – and one of them, a sizable one by one wall was now occupied by a miniature crystal garden.

"Ohhh…" – Optronix couldn't help but sigh happily. It was small off course, but the crystalline growths in it so perfect, so graceful that he thought that he's never seen more beautiful. Iacon had several such gardens but it was an entirely different sight and feel to walk among and often under the huge crystals – or observe them in front of him, like a miniature cityscape. And they were some of the rarest crystals on the planet, Optronix saw after the first, awed glance. Some of them, he couldn't even recognize.

"It's amazing…"

"I'm glad that you like it. Later, you can see the palace gardens but until that time… I wished to show how much I value you… how much I' love… no… I mean I want to court you and win you again!"

Well slag. That came out incredibly lame, no matter how much he practiced beforehand. Megatron felt like an utter fool and such feelings made him inevitably angry. Pushing back the rising anger, glanced at the wide-opticked young mech, sighed and tried to save the situation.

"I'm not really good at this courting thing…"

"My Lord… Megatron…" – Optronix, despite of everything wanted to laugh, knowing that it would definitely be a bad idea – "I thank you… and… If I have understood you correctly, then… you mean we should start again?"

The young mech cautiously nudged the bond, trying to get the feel of the warlord. What came through was a mixture of embarrassment, suppressed anger and an underlying frustration. He tried to answer, pushing through his acceptance and encouragement, but he wasn't sure whether Megatron actually felt it. The connection was still barely more than a trickle.

"Something like that… it was Soundwave's idea!"

"I like this idea, actually." – and why would he not? It gave him a field where Megatron wasn't unreachably ahead of him, like in training or fighting, experience and whatnot. It gave him a slight satisfaction to see Megatron uncomfortable and flustered, now that he knew that neither was going to be turned against him. He felt a little ashamed for the gloating, but then, he was entitled for a little of it after all he'd gone through n the mech's servos.

"I'll endeavour then to satisfy your wish." – he wasn't growling. But it was a near thing.

"Of course, I'd be happy to see the Kaonite way of courting." – Optronix was still careful not to push too far. It was a good idea, because Megatron visibly perked up a bit and flashed that little, predatory smile that made something flutter in Optronix's tank and his field shuddered.

"Gladly. Sparring is one, I'm sure you know it by now."

"I guessed as much." – Optronix answered with a playful smile. – "It is the kind of courting I came to enjoy."

"That's good because it's the only type I'm comfortable with."

Megatron uttered the sentence without meaning to, thinking that he only said it within his processor… but the glittering laugh that bubbled out of Optronix's vocalizer made him realize that he has actually spoken it aloud. – Uhhh…"

"No, please…! It's fine, really!" – Optronix tried to get his mirth under control, seeing as Megatron wavered between mortally embarrassed and seething angry – "I mean I'm pleased by any effort you make… truly! Like this crystal garden… it is so beautiful and amazing!"

"We have fewer courting gifts compared to your former home… weapons and crystals are the acceptable ones. It wouldn't be proper to give baubles or sweets, because that degrades the courted mech and we don't wear clothing like some kingdoms do."

"Ohhh… I see. We don't wear such either, although a few young mechs have tried to make it fashionable a few vorns ago, if I remember well. But I think they look silly."

"Definitely. Cloth or mesh fabric over armour? I never saw the point of it and they tear ridiculously easily."

Optronix laughed again, agreeing and Megatron was relived that they steered away from the embarrassing topics. He didn't take this hurdle well, but Optronix didn't seem to mind much – and he definitely loved the crystal garden. Megatron cautiously shifted closer to the red and blue mech under the pretense of pointing out a particularly rare formation, a deep purplish stone that came from offworld, but gained popularity in Kaon quickly, due to its particular shade. Optronix listened eagerly to its story, but Megatron noticed that his field started to fluctuate the more he stayed close and the bond conveyed unease too.

It seemed that Optronix was still afraid of him from up close, no matter their improving relationship otherwise. He was warned to it by Soundwave and the warlord drew away as unobtrusively as he got closer. Offering a cube of high-grade was a good pretense and as he put a mechanometer between them, Optronix's good mood became natural, honest again, the uneasiness dissipating from the bond.

They talked long over the small crystal garden, comparing growths from different places they knew and visited – and Optronix seemed to feel a bit sad that so many of those he'd not see ever. Due to his youth, the smaller mech has been taken for a visit only to a few city-states yet and very much hoped for more later – but the arranged bond crossed through those plans too, firmly imprisoning… getting him stuck in Kaon.

"Later, Optronix. Later. I can't suddenly change the way things are done in Kaon, but I do what I can. I promised."

"Yes… yes, I know. Thank you."

"I think I took over your time enough for this orn… I'll leave now. Have a good night cycle!"

"Thank you… Megatron."

The smile was small and a bit sad… but it was there and that encouraged Megatron. He was making headway and slow as it was, it was still progress. Now… if only he could bypass it all and jump forward in time to where he was having a loving mate and heirs… too bad that things didn't work that way. But then Megatron was familiar with making a long, patient effort to achieve a goal in a war. He should be able to do the same in his mate's rooms too. Glancing back to Optronix sitting down on his berth, he sighed and left the room. To join him there again… would be far-far too long in the future.

-o-o-o-

Optronix sank into the kiss breathless, loosing himself in the deep, sensual licks of the hot glossa on his lips, stroking inward, sharp denta nibbling on his lipplates that shuddered under the pleasant assault. He moaned, or thought that he moaned deeply in the strong arms encircling him, nearly suffocating in their protective, almost possessive embrace. He felt hot inwardly, a core-deep charge rising in his systems and his vents opened fully to expel the hot air – only it was hot on the outside too, the huge frame surrounding him in a way that was nearly impossible, strong arms encircling his frame, gentle but strong servos sliding on plates, dipping into seams, plucking sensitive wires, raising his temperature ever higher…

A servo rubbed gently but insistently on his scorching hot panel behind which lubricant was collecting in slick, hot drops, oozing out through the seams, onto the plating, where the oh-so-knowledgeable servos played with them by smearing the purple droplets onto themselves. The lubricant-soaked digits delved into the panel's seam, and Optronix was unable to keep it closed any more, even if he'd wanted to. Which he didn't. The young mech bowed off the large berth, the frame above him lifting along with his movement, never for a nanoklik stopping its maddening tease, its roaming on his tingling plating.

The bared valve was touched by a single digit gently, like a priest would touch a sacred relic of Primus and Optronix moaned again, the wordless, mindless sound only half muffled by the talented glossa that occupied his mouth, writhing under the sensations. The silver digit dipped slightly, the slick purple of the lubricant just connecting its gleaming metallic skin to the trembling platelets at his entrance. Time stopped for an eternally long nanoklik before it gently parted the silvery platelets and dipped in shallowly, smearing the lubricant around carefully.

The glossa in his mouth trembled in its enforced holding back, the big mech nearly shaking with the effort for not to be rough, not to be forceful or too fast. Optronix sucked desperately on the glossa, his moans continuous, his frame trying to push into the servo that held just on the edge of giving him pleasure. His own servos clamped onto the vast back plates, drawing the hesitant frame closer, encouraging him, reassuring him of his willingness and the approval of the other's care.

The digit pushed in deeper, pausing and withdrawing slightly every now and then. The thumb played with the anterior node, the big mech swallowing the pleasured little moans and whimpers that his touch caused. There was no fear in the smaller mech's field, no terror or rejection and the bond stayed open, honest and conveying the same; pleasure, wanting and accepting. Megatron added another digit, slowly, patiently stretching the tight little valve before he could enter it. His kiss was neverending, deep and sensual in a way Optronix never imagined the warlord to be, not even in his wildest hopes at the very beginning, before the cold and brutal awakening to the realities.

Optronix lost the thread of thought in that kiss, in the slow, incredibly hot feel of the digits moving around in his valve. He literally never felt anything like this and his occasional, long gone wet dreams too fell far short of the real sensations. His valve was lubricating copiously now with the stimulus, the walls thoroughly soaked and stretching nicely, anticipating, by this time even eagerly awaiting for his bigger mate's spike to take the place of the digits and fill him up with mind-boggling pleasure. The digits slid out the last time, the thumb pressing playfully on the anterior node in a farewell, promising even better things to come.

Optronix relaxed his inner cables, spreading his legs a bit further in invitation. The large frame above him lifted slightly, a breath of colder air between their scorching hot plating making them shiver slightly in cold and in anticipation. Pleasure-hazed optics cleared up and smoldering red connected with aquamarine as he felt the hot, engorged spike slowly push in, stretching the soaked, flexible walls to their limit. Instead of pain, the sensors registered pleasure only as the walls fulfilled their function and admitted the intruder without the burn, the tears, the pain and the last vestiges of the hidden fear melted away completely. The slow, inexorable but gentle slide inwards fired the sensors up one by one with indescribable pleasure.

Optronix keened low and the frame above him stilled, the oh-so-pleasurable stretch stopped and the field against his own flared up with worry. He collected his processor enough to push through the bond a single thought - _don't you dare to stop now!_ – and bowed upwards, pushing his hips towards the delicious intruder, the welcome enemy, the spike that was making him feel so good. A wry, nearly humorous thread of emotion came back without words and he felt the spike push in fully, knocking on his ceiling node.

Optronix shattered with a scream that noone could take for painful. If not for the encircling arms, he would have fallen back onto the berth padding, spent and sated – but it wasn't over yet. Fully seated his spike, the warlord paused, riding out his mate's overload, watching his reaction with a nearly awed wonder. His servos caressed the hot plating, dancing in seams, raising his charge again, giving him what should have always been given; care and pleasure, reverberating in their bond, giving him a taste of the young and innocent lust, feeding his own.

His own charge was secondary now, but the tight little valve undulating around him in climax very nearly pushed Megatron too into an overload. But he could control himself more than that. As soon as Optronix was regaining some control of his faculties he started to move, slide out and thrust back, gently at first, then emboldened by the enthusiastic reaction faster, stronger, more forcefully – but always, always mindful not to hurt his smaller mate. Had he botched this up in the slightest, Megatron thought, he'd never get another chance.

But it didn't feel like Optronix was in any sort of pain or discomfort. The small mech was moaning deeply into his mouth, sucking and licking his glossa mindlessly, his valve tightening again around him, the delicious friction making them both hiss in the added sensation. Their charge growing, Megatron's thrusts sped up and he was nearly pushing the smaller frame upwards on the berth with his strength, if not for the clamping arms around him that nearly fused Optronix to his plating.

"Ohhhh… y-yessss…. Megat…thron…" the younger mech chanted, panting with the thrusts and moaning when he pulled out. – "M-more… yessss… harderrrr…"

Megatron complied. There was no need for caution by this time, no chance of him to harm Optronix in any way or form. He growled low, his charge rising inexorably, threatening to overwhelm him, weakening his arms that held him up above the smaller mech, moaning and keening in pleasure. His hips snapped forward once… twice… and the third, forceful thrust broke the barrier for both of them. A higher and a deeper yell entwined in the silence of the room, signalling their release and the rush of transfluid jetting in the welcoming valve. They sank onto the berth together, processors hazed with pleasure, the barest threads of rational thought keeping the warlord from squashing the deeply offline Optronix.

-o-o-o-

Optronix's optic shutters snapped open. He was panting heavily still, his frame blazing hot, condensation dripping from underneath some plates, vents roaring to cool down his squirming, tingly and sated frame. His panel felt like a furnace where some mech left the fire burning well after the duty shift of the smelter ended but the burn wasn't painful this time. His plating tingled as it cooled slowly and with the memories of the tracks that talented digits drew on them. His glossa sneaked out, wetting dry lipplates that felt like gnawed on and kissed into the next orn.

But no mech was around, he had no company in the berth or in the room either. No transfluid dripped from his valve only the lubricant smeared and dried slowly on his hot thighs. Optronix was completely befuddled for a full breem before reality started to make sense and unease made his plating tremble and shake a little. Apparently his subconscious wasn't as much afraid of Megatron as his processor, if it presented him with dreams like this latest one.

The young mech admitted in the privacy of his helm that he did indeed long for his mate – even as he was dreading him to come too close, to hold him down, to hurt him again… it wasn't easy to face either the fear or the desire. They confused him. Optronix curled up on the berth, dispelling the charge of the dream, cooling his pleasure-heated frame with calmer thoughts. Yes, he used to find Megatron appealing, exciting, powerful and above all exotic. He'd been looking forward to feel what the larger mech could give him in the bond – and in the berth.

But brutal reality cooled down his dreams completely, deleted the tiny saplings of his awakening desires and infused him with a strut-deep fear of interfacing. Or so he thought consciously. But the dreams cared not a whit of his fears, his learned reflexes and the manifestations of his hurts. Apparently they still found Megatron desirable – and capable of giving him true pleasure. A tentative blue servo lifted off the berth, to dip into his own lubricant. It was real, not a dream. It proved that his frame was believing his subconscious.

Optronix wanted to feel true pleasure. He was hurt too much, he's suffered so badly, that in reality, it should have eradicated all dreams or wishes of interfacing ever be pleasurable again. But against all odds, despite of every reason not to – he still yearned to experience… love and its manifestations on his frame. With Megatron seemingly changed and making a real-looking effort, these yearnings blazed into life again, making him experience increasingly hot dreams. Soon, Optronix knew they'd manifest in their real interactions too.

He wasn't sure of that yet.

He got up and escaped to the washracks before Avara would come and see the telltale signs of his arousal. Under the pattering hot solvent, he rubbed down the dried lubricant from his plating, thinking furiously. Megatron would notice something soon – if he hadn't yet. Optronix didn't fool himself into believing that he wasn't observed in his rooms and even if that surveillance didn't include the berthroom, he'd betray himself somehow soon. Probably during their training, he thought wryly, with a slight smile on his lipplates - the way they touched there under the pretense of grappling was sometimes hotter than any berth-play he imagined.

It was nearly a breem before the young mech realized that his servos turned from rubbing industriously to petting himself sensually, unconsciously following the pattern of Megatron's servos on his plating in the dream. Frustrated, the young mech growled, the sound quite unlike him, but signifying his conflicting thoughts well; and grabbed a brush to attack his traitorous armor with.

The servant came in soon after that to help him finish cleaning up, followed by a cable massage and a careful polish from helm to pedes. Optronix luxuriated in the pleasant feelings, carefully suppressing any urges to perceive it as more… sensuous. He wasn't untouched any more to fantasize about interface and imagine a lover's touch in the servant's professional massage. Nope. No way. What he wanted was not Avara's light touch, but a much bigger servo… slag. There he was again. Optronix flinched slightly and the smaller mech worriedly asked if he was all right, he hasn't hurt him inadvertently…

"N-no, everything is fine, Avara." – he stammered a little but hoped that it wasn't suspicious – "I just… I had an unsettling dream."

_Unsettling, my aft_… Optronix flushed pink and was glad that he lay facedown so hopefully it wasn't noticeable. He was a bad liar because he hated lying to anyone and Jazz has always told him not to bother with it, because he'd always be caught. Calling a hot interfacing dream with Megaton unsettling wasn't exactly a lie, he reasoned within his meta, because it did trouble him afterwards. Mainly because he wanted it to be real… but he was afraid of it at the same time.

"Recharge fluxes sometimes do that." – Avara's knowing voice caused him to blush again – "But they can also be enjoyed for what they are: just dreams."

Optronix lifted an orbital ridge at the answer that showed that either Avara was telepathic – which was highly unlikely – or he'd accidentally answered exactly what he wanted to hear. He did enjoy the dream, the lack of fear, the unashamed enjoyment that care and love caused in him. The young mech also knew that in reality he wouldn't be able to react so openly and trusting. Not yet.

And he hoped that it wasn't _not ever_.

* * *

_Note: I think it might come across as a bit strange that Optronix dreams such an obviously wet dream with Megatron. I want to stress that it is his subconscious, that he is a young mech eager to have pleasure, indeed just pleasurable touches... and he can't imagine any other mech for that, as he doesn't know any other mechs whom he would desire in that way. So his dreams and his awake thughts on the matter are drastically different, conflicting._

_Note2: I'm sorry for the long breaks between updates. I'm afraid I can't make myself write when inspiration doesn't come and since it is just a hobby for me, I don't even want to force it. I don't intentionally abandon the fics I'm writing so sooner or later they all get continued. _


	10. Incognito

**Incognito**

"Megatron… Lord Soundwave."

Optronix nodded to his visitors, glad that the dark blue mech came again. He still felt positively hungry for company beside Megatron's even though he understood why he couldn't yet have visitors. He was even more surprised that after the two large frames, another mech came forward, smaller than the Kaonites, sporting sandy yellow colour and smiling politely, if a bit insincere. Megatron looked smugly pleased, while Soundwave politely introduced the newcomer:

"Ambassador Swindle, from Tarn."

"It is an honour to meet you Ambassador…" – Optronix's voice trailed away unsure, as he was a tiny bit puzzled to be introduced to one foreigner while not others that surely came around over the vorns.

"The Ambassador agreed to cooperate with us for a little subterfuge…" – Soundwave started to explain, not mentioning the exorbitant price-tag the so-called '_ambassador_' asked for his services. It was inconsequential in the greater picture of things anyway.

"What, a kind of a… plot?"

Optronix asked Soundwave but his optics were on Megatron, trying to find out what they were up to. The Ambassador, as it were didn't awaken any sympathy or trust in him – he looked more like a smarmy salesmech than a diplomat. But of course the two could overlap, he reminded himself about some of the foreign ambassadors in the Iacon palace. Very few of those he'd've entrusted an ambassadorial post either.

"It is a way for you, Optronix, to visit the town in secret. The Ambassador agreed to stay in your quarters while you and Soundwave can go out a bit and have a look around."

Megatron sounded so eager, so… giddy that he could give something that Optronix missed so much… that the smaller mech couldn't help but be happy either. Of course the prospect of escaping from his rooms was a heady thought too and to see Kaon with his own optics after so much time was much welcome, so Optronix's smile widened in happiness and barely kept himself from further, more impolite displays of his joy. But a detail suddenly made him look up.

"Can't you… come too?"

He didn't miss the happy flash in the warlord's optics and the interested raise of a brow-plate from Soundwave. Red and blue glances connected and for a klik they both felt something warm and fuzzy that wasn't there before, trickling through the bond. Trust, happiness… maybe love? It was a huge leap that not only Optronix didn't shy away from him but actually wanted him around. Too bad that he couldn't…

"We can disguise you as the ambassador, but I'm afraid there is no mech in Kaon who wouldn't recognize me."

"Ohh…" – he felt sorry for a few kliks, breaking the optic contact, but understood the necessity. – "It is unfortunate. But I'm sure in time that can happen too."

"Indeed it will. For now, you should enjoy the excursion."

Soundwave waved Avara over who attached a small device to his shoulder plates, activated it… and the colour matching ambassador Swindle's golden tan and purple washed over his plating from the little holoprojector. His helm was different still, but Soundwave assured him that most Kaonites wouldn't look twice if they saw him with a foreigner; his work as Kaon's diplomat was well-known. Still, he folded in the distinctive antennae, not much caring about the loss of some inconsequential sensory data.

"Ambassadors have a declared immunity, but still it would be wise not to provoke any fight or disagreements." – Megatron was serious before they left the rooms, nervous and apprehensive, even though the whole thing was his idea – "I know that you are not one instigating fights, but I can't be there to protect you, should anything happen."

"Brother… I'll be there, you know?" – Soundwave sounded exasperated and Optronix's lip components twitched in a suppressed smile. He really enjoyed the brothers teasing each other, although he knew that they wouldn't call it that. But the glance the blue mech cast at him was almost a wink… – "Few would dare to challenge me either."

"I promise not to cause any disturbances." – Optronix was serious. He was not going to loose his privilege of being allowed outside after so long for anything.

Megatron nodded and they left the quarters, leaving ambassador Swindle with Avara, the servant as much serving him as observing so that he wouldn't mess with Optronix's things. Not even Megatron fooled himself that the slimy-mannered _ambassador_ was completely trustworthy.

But Optronix forget him as soon as they stepped out of the palace and Soundwave's two younglings joined them, introducing themselves as Frenzy and Rumble. The guards were around but keeping so much to the background that Optronix in time managed to forget that they were there and enjoy the excursion. They were engaging in a pleasant, light and superficial conversation but it was obvious that Soundwave gave him as much freedom and permission to enjoy the sights as possible.

The blue mech pointed out the landmarks near the palace, the dark and sinister Temple for Unicron, the Old Castle, maintained as historical memento, the Midnight Gardens with the special, moonlight-grown crystals, and the main square of the town, giving the choice for Optronix to decide where to go. He wasn't surprised when the young mech enthusiastically choose the marketplace, rather cutely apologizing when he thought that Soundwave'd be insulted if he didn't check out the main attractions.

"Optronix, I don't expect you to conform to me or any other mech now. This little walk is for you. If you want to see the mechs of Kaon, it is no less in any way than wanting to see grand structures."

"I understand… I'm interested in those too, just first the mechs who live here."

"It is a commendable wish, Optronix."

"My Sire has always said that I'm far too much interested in the lives of our subjects. He didn't approve of me going out of the palace and mingle with the simple mechs of Iacon."

Soundwave looked at Optronix sympathetically. He knew just how a stickler to rules and etiquette Ultra Magnus was and wouldn't have wished it on any of his own creations.

"We think differently then. A good leader, be it a councilmech, a noble or a king, must know how his subjects live. A certain amount of safety must be present…" – he waved behind them where the guards followed them unobtrusively – "especially in Kaon, but we all spent a lot of our childhood on the streets and public training fields, playing with, as you say, the simple mechs of the city."

"Exactly! I could never agree with Sire in this."

They walked around in the rather scantily populated market streets, Optronix occasionally asking and Soundwave explaining things. The two cassettes tried to liven up their sedate walk and the ambassador had to reprimand them a few times, but Optronix enjoyed the attempts for humor and mischief… the smaller mechs reminded him of Jazz and Hot Rod, the two troublemaking rascals of the royal family. He tried hard not to let that memory darken his mood, after all he did talk with them many times since he could.

Kaon was… interesting, he thought. Superficially, the market looked the same as in Iacon, a busy, lively and crowded place. But when he got closer, he saw the differences too. Obviously everything was in a scale that started to exasperate him, not only the Kaonites themselves who looked over his helm and disregarded him completely; but the sheer size of the stalls, the seating in the small energon bars in the corners and not to forget the detailing shop he just passed with the huge machines that looked more like torture devices than for cleaning and detailing…

The stalls had a different ware in general too. Far more weapons, which he found natural by this time, far less decorative items, except for the crystals which were in abundance, and even the games and puzzles that he saw were of a strategic variety, whereas in Iacon it was hard to find a game that wasn't about economy or politics. The toys for sparklings also showed similar leanings; toy weapons and war-games.

Optronix also noted that he was the only non-Kaonite around, and studiously being ignored as a foreigner. In Iacon, at any time of the vorn there were hundreds if not thousands of visitors, merchants and diplomats, exchange students or distant relatives, artists and even tourists in the town. They weren't ignored either; a good number of his fellow countrymechs… well former countrymechs, lived well from giving lodging, catering and programs for off-city visitors.

Here, it looked like an occasional foreign mech like himself was considered as the necessary evil they had to put up with. Some of the vendors were downright rude and while Soundwave has always put them to their places, they never became friendly even when he bought something. Not that he needed anything in particular but Kaonites appeared to have a very particular but truly beautiful crystal carving technique that he loved.

-o-o-o-

Megatron paced up and down in his quarters like a caged cyberwolf. He was nervous, frustrated, impatient and wanted to call Soundwave about ten times in every breem, just stopping himself from making the call. His brother would call him had anything happened with Optronix. He knew that. It didn't help his anxiousness. At the end of yet another circle, he threw himself down on a recliner, grabbing a cube of high grade instead of further fretting.

He froze into a statue as suddenly he realized why he was fretting and nervous - because he cared. About Optronix. Soundwave warned him that he'd have to face with his feelings for the Iaconian soon… and now was as good a time as any. Somewhere during the last several orns he came to… yes, he came to truly enjoy the young mech's presence, his company and his still-cautious nudges in the bond. Something he never believed to be possible.

Optronix was still shy, extroverted and nervous when he got too close, but otherwise open, honest and eager to learn and change, mold himself into a Kaonite… and let Megatron do much of that molding. He drank the warlord's various tales and explanations, and asked meaningful, sharp and intelligent questions. He was also gorgeous, sensual without even trying and exotic, heating up Megatron's frame every time they sparred and the younger mech let him close. Was it all love… Megatron still had no idea.

He loved his brother, albeit he'd never, ever say that aloud, but it was a familial bond. He lusted for some pleasurebots who possessed luscious frames, but that was impersonal, just another urge to satisfy. He was naturally drawn to special frame-types, like fliers, but not even that felt this deep. No, he thought what he felt towards Optronix had all those elements… and something more that he couldn't even describe. It had to be love, he thought wryly, he was told many times that it was an indescribable feeling, just like his own towards Optronix.

"Brother?" – the much awaited comm roused him from his musings – "We're back and absolutely nothing out of ordinary happened."

"I'll be right there, Soundwave. And… thanks."

The shiningly grateful and happy look on Optronix's faceplates, once he was there firmly decided that however dangerous the subterfuge was, they'd have to let him do it again. The young mech nearly glowed with contented happiness and Megatron eagerly drank in the rarely seen sight, not even noticing how he fell ever deeper into the love he still couldn't identify. Soundwave and Swindle left them alone, the telepath knowing that it was for the best if Megatron reaped the fruits of his labor, that it would work wonders for their relationship.

Optronix eagerly talked about what he's seen for joors and Megatron didn't mind hearing about the city he knew so well, from the lips he was so much yearning to touch. They discussed his experiences, compared Kaon to Iacon, had a good-natured argument about the theory and practice of rearing a youngling… and agreed at the end of that that neither of them was fully satisfied with the way they were raised, and had they got the opportunity, they'd do a better job.

They fell to silence after that agreement. Megatron, because he remembered the sparkling with deep regret, Optronix, because he was sensitive and picked up his mood, even though he didn't know the reason. But he knew better than to ask. Megatron, he knew by this time was not going to hurt him, whatever he asked – but he would get all cranky and still wouldn't say anything. He could be patient and wait until the warlord was ready to tell whatever it was.

-o-o-o-

Between the training and the covert excursions Optronix's boredom disappeared completely in the following groons. He got more and more comfortable with Megatron, even outside the sparring room. There were more of his dreams and the young mech caught himself more than once during a discussion that his glances to Megatron were sliding over the powerful frame appreciatively and he had to remind himself of their topic. During sparring it was even worse… or better, he wasn't sure – but there at least he could blame the exercise for his overheated frame.

There was even a memorable evening when they all, including Soundwave and his eldest cassette, Ravage got sloshed and the discussion deteriorated into jokes, laughing, and incredulous tales from various campaigns the three of them were part of. As he discovered, the ambassador was just as much a warrior as all Kaonites. When they disappeared, Optronix hasn't even noticed in his overcharged mirth, only that after a while he was alone with Megatron, not afraid in the slightest and sitting nearly on his lap. They were still laughing at the last joke.

Then a sensuous stroke slid over his back plating absentmindedly, down till it cupped his aft… and then Megatron's servo froze before he swiftly snatched it away.

"I… didn't mean that."

Optronix swallowed the mouthful he just drank and reined in both a tremble and his lust.

"It wasn't… bad." – he said in a small voice.

Megatron sat like a statue, thoughts clearly warring in his processor. The bond swirled with worry, lust, care and frustration, like colourful flashes of lights chasing each other in a maelstrom.

"You are not ready." – he answered in a choked voice.

Optronix couldn't refute that statement, even though he would be half-willing to disprove it. He shook his helm mutely but didn't draw away. Megatron had to feel his rising temperature and the desire in his field, in the bond… true, it was enflamed by the amount they both drank but some of it was his own, Optronix knew.

"I don't want high-grade to decide instead of you."

A cautious claw lifted his chin to have their optics connect. The other servo, Megatron tightened into a fist to keep his treacherous frame in check.

"Only when you are ready. I promised."

"Thank you…" – Optronix could finally whisper his answer. – "I'm nearly… almost… but…"

"Shhhh… you'll know. We'll both know when."

The servo petted his shoulder nearly chastely, although it took a lot of effort from the warlord to keep it that way, and drew away.

"Sleep well, Optronix."

That dark cycle was the first they both went to recharge equally unsatisfied, frustrated and dreamt similar dreams.

-o-o-o-

"Where is it you'd like to go Optronix?"

"Maybe into a tavern or something. I always hope that one orn some mech will talk to me and not just sneer." – Optronix told it good-naturedly, but in fact he was frustrated that Kaonites generally ignored him as nonexistent. Even after their dozens of excursions he was still unsuccessful to really talk to mechs other than Megatron and his brothers.

"I must warn you that it is unlikely even in a tavern… but we should still go into one if you wish."

Soundwave judged the likelihood of it to virtually nil, but he knew several suitable establishments nearby; good enough for even nobles to go in but common enough not to be exclusive. Not quite taverns, but then he wouldn't take Optronix into a real, brutal Kaonite common bar. The young Iaconian mech probably wouldn't survive that experience unscathed, as natural pastimes among lower caste Kaonites regularly involved fighting and Megatron would have his helm for a desk-decoration if he got hurt.

The Steel Mill was a bit of a smallish side but Soundwave brought here many ambassadors and their entourages and so they at least were familiar with foreigners, not so rude as shopkeepers in general. It was typical in decoration for Kaon; darkly coloured walls with few lights and gleaming edges of weapons on the walls throwing those rays around. They sat at one of the smaller tables, the server immediately recognizing the Lord's brother and scurried to take their orders.

Once they got the cubes, Optronix started to have a good look around. Few mechs were in, since the day shifts usually were still at work and the night ones at home yet. But he noticed a group of four mechs in a nearby table, arguing heatedly in heavily accented, nearly unintelligible Kaonian and listened carefully what he could glean of the words. After a few breems of it, he turned to Soundwave with a wide-opticked look.

"They are talking about… poems, if I understood well? They do have a thick accent so I might be… wrong."

Soundwave nodded, perfectly understanding the surprise. To anyone but a Kaonite, the group would look and sound like they were arguing and just one step away from brawling – whereas they were just discussing and comparing the newest rages that went around in the communinets.

"Songs, I believe, not poems." – he corrected, listening in briefly to their conversation. – "And they are from northern Kaon, by their accents."

"But… but they sound like they are going to… fight?"

"They probably won't… not about such an inconsequential topic." – Soundwave sampled their emotions briefly to make sure – "They might if it was about the sporting event coming up, but not over this."

"You mean all the time I thought the vendors would want to bite my helm off… they were just their normal, grouchy, Kaonite selves?"

Soundwave nearly laughed out loud at the wry but observant question.

"Mostly yes, we do have a conduct that foreigners find rough and some even belligerent. But the vendors made it extra nasty, because you look like a stranger. They were more normal when they saw me being with you."

They got to this point in their conversation when suddenly a huge shape loomed over their table and Optronix looked up in surprise, Soundwave following him in a klik.

"My, my… I can't believe my optics." – the voice was scratchy and shrill, unpleasant to the audials and spoke with a false unctuousness – "Who else is turning up in a bar than the mysterious and well-hidden mate of the Warlord… without him?"

Soundwave stood up at once and directed Optronix to do the same. He didn't quite hid the smaller mech, as it would be insulting, but he was clearly in a position to defend him if needed. But when his optics took in the frame standing opposite to them, the telepath commed frantically to Megatron. The warlord didn't answer, his comms pinging back with an unavailable note, meaning that he was probably with a pleasurebot, working out interfacing frustration from his systems. Soundwave swore inwardly.

"Lord Starscream…" – he had to bow to the Winglord, probably the only mech at the moment in Kaon who outranked him beside Megatron and being a valuable ally, he couldn't risk a diplomatic scandal either. But the Seeker was sly and known to harbor secret plans. It wasn't a chance meet, the telepath felt it without even trying to get a feel of the flier's processor – "It is an honour to see you here, in a lowly tavern…"

"Stuff it, _Lord_ Soundwave." – The slagging Seeker knew it too and sneered at him – "I spoke to Lord… I believe Optronic?"

He had to step aside or risk the Winglord challenging him. Soundwave considered sending the highest alert to his brother that would go through any comm firewall, but refrained from it yet. Optronix stood as tall as he could – not much between the rigidly standing Kaonite and the flared wings of the Vosian, but his best and answered politely.

"Lord Starscream. I believe we've met once." – reminding the Winglord that he should know his designation correctly at least – "At the bonding party."

"Oh yesss… the last time any mech saw you." – The Seeker moved closer, towering over Optronix, who, to Soundwave's surprise stood fast and hasn't betrayed his uneasiness with a single twitch or trembling in his voice. - "He whisked you away before any mech could have made the ritual challenges."

If Optronix was surprised, he didn't show it. He stood determined and proud, facing up to the larger flier. He also deactivated the device on his shoulder, letting his normal colours show now that his incognito was broken anyway. Soundwave noted the mechs around starting to look over to them and commed to Dreadnought with an order to break their brother's door if necessary and get them to the tavern at once. He also ordered their guard to clear the place from any witnesses fast.

"I am not aware that the bonding lacked any necessary part."

"It was complete." – the Seeker conceded, but smirked once more, raising Soundwave's dread – "But still, some things cannot be denied."

"No!"

"What, Soundwave, would you deny it?"

Optronix looked from one of them to the other, bemused. The Seeker's unfamiliar faceplates were hard to read, but his tone was dangerous and his wings moved upwards a few notches. Soundwave was loosing his calm fast and frustration coloured his tone.

"What kind of rights you mean, Lord Starscream?" – he clearly perceived that Soundwave couldn't act against the Seeker but he wasn't sure why he would need to. Simply loosing his incognito surely wasn't so serious… But gaining time seemed to be a good idea, the blue mech has surely commed Megatron already.

"Why, my dear Soundwave, I should have expected you to enlighten this young mech fully…" – Starscream hissed – "If Lord Megatron hasn't done it yet!"

"Lord Starscream, Lord Optronix, please… it is not the time or place…"

"There is no other time or place!"

"I'd really appreciate if someone enlightened me."

"Very well, little mech… you bonded with Lord Megatron but hasn't produced a sparkling in … well, too many vorns. His brothers have a right to help to contribute to the bloodline, you know? As Megatron himself named me his brother in arms, I too…"

"You have a right to shut your vocalizer NOW!"

It wasn't Megatron and Dreadnought lacked any sense of diplomacy that Soundwave possessed. But then on occasions brute force worked better with the Seeker than anything else.

"Lord Dreadnought? What a surprise to see you too here! I can't believe four powerful Kaonite warriors couldn't produce a single sparkling!"

But then, sometimes the Seeker did seem suicidal to Soundwave. To mortally insult four Kaonites, the whole ruling family in one sentence was something even from the wily flier. Dreadnought couldn't even answer, he was spluttering so much, only Soundwave's steel grip holding him back from attacking the slagging Winglord, who was expecting, no, inviting and taunting him to do so.

What was he planning with such a blatant insult? He couldn't hope to get away with it, not from Megatron once he got his slagging aft here. Soundwave silently ordered their entourage to empty the place or rather arrest every mech who was still present. They couldn't afford the scandal to get public. On a second thought he ordered the palace guard to arrest Swindle too. There was no way Starscream found them by accident and recognized Optronix in the disguise without a hint from some mech.

He risked a glance to the young mech, lipplates slightly open, wide-opticked expression completely frozen in shock and sighed. Things were going so well… and now they'd have to do some serious damage control to salvage at least some parts of that. Provided they got out of the situation fast and without a deactivated frame of the Vosian Winglord in their wake. Kaon simply couldn't afford to have Vos turning on them at the moment, no matter that they were – for the time being – in peace.

"Starscream." – Megatron knew all of it as well, and was marginally calmer than Dreadnought when he finally arrived to the scene, briefed on his way about the situation. Drawing the still shocked and unresisting Optronix to him he snarled at the Seeker angrily, but with that tight, dangerous control promised harsh retribution.

"Explain yourself, Winglord or our states will be enemies fast… and your Trine will need a new leader too."

"Threats? Hahh! When I was just mentioning some of the possibilities this poor little thing who seemingly wasn't aware of them!"

"The tradition you mentioned has not been used for gigavorns and it was considered barbaric even then." – Soundwave interjected in an icy tone. He projected that coldness into Dreadnought's processor too to calm him down. – "Neither of us has even considered it"

"Especially as there is no need for it."

Megatron held Optronix close and glowered nastily at the suddenly unsure-looking Seeker. Soundwave couldn't read the flier's processor directly but he could well extrapolate his thoughts from his behaviour; the Seeker wouldn't dare to demand proof, but he did consider Megatron's unspoken bluff to be real. If Optronix was with sparkling then his insults were in effect pointless, dangerous, whatever plan he's been hatching moot. But it was a risky bluff with Optronix present and that was where the Seeker's red optics flashed immediately.

Optronix himself barely got over his shock when suddenly all the attention was focused on him. He was hugged close to Megatron's dark plating, the strength, the warmth and the trickling worry and care through the bond gave him the feeling of safety. The idea that the Winglord said was… barbaric but at the same time unfortunately believable - so far as he learned about Kaonites.

What made him disregard it as an eventuality was Megatron himself. The warlord was fierce and possessive in everything and Optronix couldn't for a single astrosecond imagine that he'd give his mate willingly to even his own brothers. Not to mention a complete stranger… He realized that in the last groon or so he came to trust the big mech who has never broken his word to Optronix and seemed to change completely towards him. And… yes, he came to love this Megatron lately, the young mech admitted it to himself.

Optronix straightened his back struts and lifted his helm proudly. He made no move to free himself from Megatron's embrace as he spoke up with the same icy politeness he talked to Dreadnought on previous occasions.

"Winglord Starscream, I can assure you that Lord Megatron is quite enough of a mech for me. Your rudeness is not appreciated and I suggest removing yourself from this company."

Soundwave nodded inwardly and cheered the young mech. There was an advantage in having a diplomatically trained mate beside Megatron and it came out perfectly now. Optronix revealed nothing, confirmed nothing, but diffused the Seeker's little bomb with impeccable politeness and form. Without any mech deactivating the Seeker. Yet.

"We… we'll have to see soon some proof!" – Starscream hissed, but his wings betrayed his insecurities – "Until then… Vos will wait."

He stormed out of the empty tavern, Soundwave signalling the guard to let the Seeker go without a fuss. He wouldn't go far anyway. Optronix gently freed himself from Megatron's embrace and stood facing them with a thoughtful expression.

"He thinks that I'm sparked now, right?"

Soundwave nodded silently. Megatron's servo tightened into a fist.

"And he wants to see proof of it soon."

It wasn't really a question so none of them insulted him with an unnecessary answer.


End file.
